See it sitting there in silence?
A simple beast, a cruel defiance.
See it in its shades of gray
Sitting on that old worn hay
It hunted once, part of the pack
And now with age it’s skills doth lack
Now it sits alone at night
Hidden from the shamful sight
Of the pack he, in days past, lead
They have left him here for dead.
So what will you do to the poor beast
End him or feed him a feast.
Of course what you do sits to decide
Whether you feel shame or pride
But who are you to make that choice
You are but one, one person, one voice.
And one voice amongst the choirs call
Is not really a voice at all.
©2013 Alex Hicks