Ode to the brave little souls
The ones who are beaten, bruised
Their eyes are pools of sorrow, despair
Their little hearts, once innocent, now refused

They may be small, they may not talk
Rest assured though, they remember
They may be down trodden, even broken
But I will make them whole by the end of November

Their deep brown eyes, melting hearts
Their cowering demeanours, at every gesture
They back away yet wish to approach
Their wounds, though unseen, seem to fester

They are lost, they are frightened
By the very thing they have every right to feel
They are hungry for more than a morsel of food
They worry not for their next meal

They are the souls turned into mere tools
By humanity, the very people meant to take care
Yes, it is us, humans, the heartless fools
That fail them each in the worst way

When will the cruelty to rule and own end?
When will humanity learn, if you destroy and maim
That which we refer to as man’s best friend
Will have no loyalty, no love, no name

Some dark day the tide will turn
The strong will become the weak
The weak will feel the courage of fire burn
Before it’s to late, before we are forced to retreat

Defend those that have no voice
Love them, nurture them, bring them back from the brink
Humanity, you have still the chance, use the wise choice
Do right by them, love them and watch them never again shrink

From love, cherishment and true compassion
Rehabilitate the damaged, don’t discard them like trash
This should be humanity’s final and pressing mission
Lest we see the last vestiges of our existence crash