Morning Massacre
A rainstorm in the morning helps to wash away the night,
a rainbow seems to promise that this day will turn out right.
Our feathered friends all gathering, in search of morning treat,
could anything go wrong today, just look below your feet.
Heavy rain is death to us it creates a muddy sea
of sodden soil, a watery grave for those who can’t get free.
For terror hangs above our home as birds all flock around,
they know that we have got no choice, we’ll be their killing ground.
Wonderful for all who greet this frenzy with delight,
to watch the pretty birds catch worms … oh what a lovely sight!
But as the waters seeps below we worms rise one by one
and try to seek a ‘safer’ place, dried by the morning sun.
Before our heads have seen the light their beaks begin to tear,
they rip my family into shreds before they can breath air.
This feast is at our fatal cost our numbers dwindle down,
if only we weren’t forced to rise from safety underground.
Today I was the lucky one the one they never caught,
I’ll live to squirm another day alone with life, and thought.
To live my days in solitude, to have no friends around
and still to face the terrors of that ‘pitter patter’ sound.
So if you’re happy with your friends but feel that you are down,
unless you’re ‘forced’ to rise above the place that you have found
it’s safer to accept your lot for sometimes you can’t see
the place you struggle to achieve’s not what it seems to be!
Ivor G Davies.
(A Family Crisis?)
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