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THE DESPERATES

The hungry and the poor,
Will always try to find a door,
That will offer them a little more,
Than what they had before.
They cross the border through 
The Kruger Park, 
When it’s dark,
A singularly desperate act!
Between them all they,
Have made a pact,
To secure a life,
Where they can survive,
Or die trying in a 
Desperate strife,
To keep alive!
Sadly, they often become,
Human bait,
To fearsome cats,
Who are surely looking for that
Foreign smell of meat,
And will prowl until they
Find them, then
One by one, to eat! 
The few that do not
Meet their fate,
Kneel down and pray,
For yet another day!
These predators
Prefer the night,
When they have the
Best eyesight,
But also take chances when 
It is light,
And give these desperate
Humans an unexpected fright, 
Who leave behind,
A trail of scent.
The Animals spot their
Prey under the shade of a tree,
That offers afternoon cool.
They already begin to drool!
The only sign that humans were
There, are knitting needles,
And a ball of wool!
Still more human bait is left,
Although many are now bereft,
They run and hide,
Down mud, they slide,
For hope that 
On the other side,
They will find,
Peace of mind!
Some make it to the other side,
But sadly still have to hide 
From humankind,
Who seek, these 
Desperate people out,
For cheap labour, they
Know their route!
All has been in vain,
As once again,
They are forced to be poor,
And used and abused.
All they wanted was a
Simple life, never had 
Any illusions of grandeur, 
And so the door
They sought,
Has only brought,
More sorrow,
On the morrow!

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