'The Hunted'

Status: 2nd Draft

'The Hunted'

Status: 2nd Draft

'The Hunted'

Poem by: flowing pencil

Details

Genre: Poetry

Content Summary

Feel free to comment on this piece in regards to formatting etc.. AND I am a meat-eater so cannot judge those who hunt for food. It is the "sport" of killing that I hate. Living in a woods full of deer and other critters.. I love to seeing them. Yes.. they do damage but no comparing it to the damage man has done. Yes.. they get on roads and cars are damaged.. but who invaded who?

I was sorting through some old papers and came across my son's drawing of the stag.. he was about 14.. loved to sketch in ink. That is what spurred the poem. This was without verses when written but I decided to break it up.. Not sure it was the right decision as was more of a "flow of thoughts" PUNCTUATION? MOI! If I knew how to do it correctly? I would have.. :D
 
 

Content Summary

Feel free to comment on this piece in regards to formatting etc.. AND I am a meat-eater so cannot judge those who hunt for food. It is the "sport" of killing that I hate. Living in a woods full of deer and other critters.. I love to seeing them. Yes.. they do damage but no comparing it to the damage man has done. Yes.. they get on roads and cars are damaged.. but who invaded who?

I was sorting through some old papers and came across my son's drawing of the stag.. he was about 14.. loved to sketch in ink. That is what spurred the poem. This was without verses when written but I decided to break it up.. Not sure it was the right decision as was more of a "flow of thoughts" PUNCTUATION? MOI! If I knew how to do it correctly? I would have.. :D

Content

Submitted: May 19, 2016

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Content

Submitted: May 19, 2016

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'THE HUNTED'

 

Grant me the right to live in peace

within nature's haven

As I was here long before you

Long before your roads and highways

 

Endured your hunting and killing

for meat and for sport

It is the "for sport" that I so hate man

As I cannot wage war with bullets

They travel far quicker than I

Plunge deep into my flesh

ripping my sinew

spilling my blood

killing me instantly

or leaving me thrashing in agony

 

My pain no less than man's

At times I'm not alone

Flesh of my flesh watches my fall

hears my death throes

weaving throughout the forest

while all wildlife shudders


© Copyright 2025 flowing pencil. All rights reserved.

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