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Rated: E · Poetry · Animal · #1328674
Despite the cruely these creatures suffer, they still have the capability for love.
I am the humble worm living in your flowerbed,
Caring for your plants in a way no human can.
Poisoned by your pesticides though I may be,
I’m still doing my duty here.
Til I die, I will care for those who cannot care for themselves.
A humble worm I am, and no human will I die.

I am the fish in the pond
And you, you are the one with the barbed hook in his hand.
I find it quite hard to say that man’s soul is immaculate,
While you stick the ones who care for your garden
On the end of that barbed hook,
And tempt me with him.
To you, we all have no soul,
Only you do.
Though simpleheaded I may be,
At least I can see that outright falsity.

I am the starfish
Calmly dying on a tabletop
Below a sign that reads:
“Rare Starfish! We Got ‘Em!$5.00 ea.”

I am the worthless tree you cut down
Because you were so sure that I would fall on your house tomorrow.
My body, my corpse was taken to this place.
Here they slice me into narrow strips,
Here they grind me into little chips.
Here, my existence was taken from me.
And here, in this piece of paper, my soul forever stands.
© Copyright 2007 LetoOfBeggars (letoofbeggars at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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