by Brianna G. Harte
Pipes running through land without a voice,
constructed by those who take its caretakers’ voices away,
act as rattlesnakes slithering through the grass.
Sedating it shall not keep its poison from seeping into victims,
and disregarding its wild nature leads to more in the future.
Where’s the guarantee?
Where’s the voice of reason?
Has it been bitten by the snake and left to die,
wasting away when money lies on the snake’s back?
If left to multiply, more innocents may fall victim
and fade away should the rattlesnakes become restless.
Should these creatures roam free?
Should the land roam free?
Can anything be done to tame a poisonous, intimidating creature,
thirsty for blood that turns to gold?
Should those who hit the rattlesnake upon the head
have to leave so that more victims can appear?
No can only partner with one of these
and decisions must be made.
The voice of the land’s caretakers may be gone
but the pride of their land still has his own.
May he hear their pleas
and help save innocents from the poisons
instead of letting blood of the hurt turn into gold
as the land slowly dies at his hands
since sooner or later
the rattlesnake shall bite if allowed to roam free.
Copyright © 2015 Brianna G Harte. All rights reserved.