Brock bottom

Misunderstood meles,

for many a rare sight,

as they’d rather watch TV,

than step into moonlight

 

Where wet noses shine,

and the gleam of an eye,

such a beautiful creature,

too special, to die..

 

Protect our farming,

tiggywinkles, oh no,

more road-hogs kill road hogs,

but these mustelids must go

 

Accused without fault,

nothing is black or white,

till we reach Brock bottom,

to hear screams in the night

 

Scumbags with dogs,

mud and blood on their boots,

dig petrified victims,

from setts amid roots

 

Ignorance is bliss,

for no-one will tell,

just call it a cull,

a legitimised hell

 

Wild life in the wild,

the two not related?

TB or not TB,

TB bated and hated?

 

July 7th, 2018

 

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