To sob is to feel
To feel is to be
To be is to face
Humanity
To write to compose
I do I suppose
Feel sadness sincere
at the death of a DEER
The bowman may laugh
with a sort of didain
its easy to laugh
When you don't feel the pain
and cleary these hunters
their hearts are bone dry
That nothing on earth
Can now make them cry

To sob is to feel
pain that is real

The death of a soul
who bled in a hole
who was left there to die
Poor DEER



composed and sent to my Friend Christian Raymond who campaignss tirelessly for the animals as so many of us do