Hunter man I'm not a fan
A poem by Rex Tyler (rex@cooksdelight.co.uk)
Source: www.cooksdelight.co.uk
A hunter, whats a hunter
a man whose inner soul
is clearly bent on murder
inside himself, his role
is gallant,brave and courageous
a mind like this desires
To slaughter any animal
and to fail to realise.
there's no need
in this day and age
to do this,
his weaponry
is sophisticated and
the hunted stands no chance
for it is ambushed
a telescopic lense
and it is down
Those who face the Tiger
With an asagai
Well at least there is a chance
who wears the crown
But the high powered rifle
from a hide up in the trees
or the Bow Hunter whose camouflaged
and does feel
Equal to the prey
I can tell him right a way
His equality of spirit
isn't real
He can never ever equal
them for wildness
for spirit, nor for courage
for they leave
him standing in the dark
Trying to make his mark
But sadly only he can now believe
a Hunter whats a hunter
a man with a big gun
With an ego thats expanding
Who does it all for fun
Maiming, causing injury
to innocent souls who ply
The forests in the search for life
that can quickly pass them by
High fiving with his comrades
Their trophy cut down by
A bullet made of steel
That tore into its flesh
and why
So the hunter could have fun
a photograph to provide a way
a trophy gathering dust somewhere
and a karmic debt to pay
A poem written by a good friend of mine. Humans with even an ounce of compassion are fed up with the torture and killing of innocent wildlife for greed, profit and amusement. Today we are learning a lot about the corruption of the hunting industry and we are so fed up with recreational hunter same old lies and excuses on why they kill. The simple fact is they KILL because they enjoy killing no different then how serial killers enjoys killing humans.
