I never did meet you,
But pain is a common friend-
The one whose past I overlooked
Did your past bring to its end.
Sitting on your little nest,
Away out in the little wood,
You went on in your little way
And fared as a little creature should.
To some this might matter,
Some people may care,
But those who saw you that day in the wood
Saw only their share.
They must've had fun
They must've grinned wide
For no shame crossed their face;
Your remains they cared not hide.
Innocence is not seen by evil, dear friend
And though you lived not long
You lived fair well-
And only the true will bid to your memory
Farewell, farewell, farewell.
(This poem is written to a goose. Yes, a goose. But the real subject here is the people that killed it. The author is not in any way an animal rights activist, but the goose had a nest of eggs and was killed for the "fun" involved. Those who killed her still hold no regrets and continue to tear things apart. Only now they've moved on to people. And people's hearts.)
