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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem on how I view animals hunting and being hunted. I can't say it's my favorite but it still has meaning to me.
What do you think, in the poetry book or not?

Submitted: August 04, 2010

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Submitted: August 04, 2010



The animals, they run,

Without a care in the world.

Their sounds never cease,

Filling my ears with their chorus

That flows together perfectly.


That is, until night falls,

Where the bugs play their songs

And the animals take care

To hide from glowing eyes

That mean an enemy is near.


One the sun sets they are not safe;

They cannot see like they should

Or like the predators can.

It is a game of hide and seek

Of the most extreme kind.


The predators hide in the bushes,

Behind the trees, anywhere they can lie in wait

For its prey to make the mistake

Of wandering just a little too close,

And then the hunt begins.


Maybe it'll follow its victim,

Hoping it'll lead them to more prey.

Maybe it'll attack right away,

Too tired to risk a game a chase

Or too impatient to wait.


But the prey does not know

That it is about to be a victim.

It does not see the eyes watching it,

And it thinks it is safe,

But it does not know the danger.


One wrong step for the prey,

One right step for the predator,

And the battle begins.

The predator pounces swiftly,

Taking down its dinner.


Oh, it will fight against the claws

And the powerful teeth,

But it cannot escape.

The hunter will not let go

And it cannot escape.


The victory is short lived,

For the smell of death

Penetrates the calm midnight air,

Warning the weak animals to hide

And drawing in the strong ones.


The prey escape until daylight comes,

And the hunters battle for the blood.

The cycle, it continues, over and over,

Day after day, never ending.

Can't they just get along?

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