Lions

The lion came a knocking
On my garage door
And told me of a time to come
When he would be no more.

He pleaded with me
To come and save his race
And quoted statistics
To make himself a case.

And when I told my wife
She said it wasn’t so
That I was just imagining
Such an unlikely goal.

And it was very probable
I didn’t have a chance,
For how was I about it?
How to make my stance?

And so I began
My wanderings,
And no-one believed it so,
That within 6 moons
The lions were to go.

And now their roar’s
An echo,
A ghostly, tragic cry.
And the world is a poorer place
Because we let
The lions die.

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