A Painful Reality They walk on me, They play on me. They spend their every day on me I’m fine with that; it’s what I’m for. But no, no, no! They hurt me more
They wound my skin, Take my treasures from within; With picks, shovels and drills. Then they strip me bare, And walk away.
I am red, they don’t see my anger. I’m treated like a stranger. ‘’Eureka, Eureka, Eureka!’’, they cry.
My gold, my treasure. It’s as simple as that. But those reckless animals don’t care-(oh drat)
Soon enough, all my treasures will be gone. And those careless humans will have none.
The ground they stand on, I was happy to lend But those days of happiness have come to an end.
Gen Hart