The Price of the Roan

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The shorty philly asks its way
To the end of the brook
But can not be steered to the end
By a simple nod or look.

The meditation man has his say
And enlightens those who pass
On their way to defend
The roan shorty philly's ass

The creatures nod as they weep
A solemn scorn of minimum wage
Hard times have hit the brooks end cave
As one of their own dwells caged

The imprisoned one can only sleep
As his tears jerk sanity from his veins
Chosen for pacifism and will to behave
And the value of his manes

The desire has won over all
Shorty's face alone, not sharing greed
May your auction bring us wealth
In our time of desperate need

So sitting whimpering in his incarcerated stall
His sacrifice is met in confidence
That though he knows that he will fall
He won't give them the joy of broken silence.


July 25, 2004