The Desperates

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!