Darting through trees,
A bird swooped and played,
He felt free, free as the wind,
He felt unstoppable, invincible,
A ray of light, his golden feathers shone,
He was joy, he was its plaything.
Footsteps crunched closer,
It was a poacher,
The poacher stalked his pray,
He raised his gun-
He lowered his gun.
His mind raced, images ran to his head,
Imagine, imagine you were a bird,
Diving, playing, hooting,
And shot down for fun
Is killing really fun?