The arrow struck with a sickening thud
Piercing the neck with a spurt of blood.
Searing pain with anguish shrill
The wound severe, but did not kill
The baby kangaroo reeled, and fell
Into an agonizing Hell.
An arrow, through the neck, half out the other.
A look of horror from his mother.
Strange instinct told that Man had the power
To save him in his desperate hour.
For days he staggered through bush and plain
With one thought in his aching brain
To reach the streets of Sydney City
In search of help. In search of pity
Brave Baby! How did you know
You could trust man, who had hurt you so?
You did not run. You did not flinch
You stood your ground, did not yield an inch
When they came with a cage to take you away.
You did not know if this was your last day
Or whether in some far flung Zoo
You would be a captive kangaroo
But man with kindness, and great skill
Removed the arrow that was meant to kill.
The wound soon healed and the decision made
To return the Baby to where he once played.
How can a Man have a heart so savage
Thinking it fun to ravage
The body of a defenceless baby with an arrow?
This cruelty fills one with horror.
Lord! I know you have the power to take revenge
And have many ways to avenge
The pain and horror of this deed.
But the Bowman needs help
His soul is sick, it needs repair
Teach him to love, teach him to care.