Dwindling Away

Western swamp tortoise, wander away,

wander away to see the next day.

Wander away from the land you call home,

away from fallen trees and pesticides, you roam.  

People have harmed you and battered you down,

but, bravely, you tried to hold your ground.

Your old home is hell, reduced to dust,

still, you carry on and try to adjust.

Your house cleared away to make way for another’s,

homes taken away from tortoise mothers, fathers, and brothers.

Driven out, with nowhere to go,

numbers are dwindling, and heads are hung low.

Your kind is fading, run to the ground,

but still I did not hear it, not even a sound.

Not an outraged cry, not a single saddened sigh,

there should be more, with a species about to die.  

But poor tortoise, you can now see the light,

put down your weapons, pass on your fight.

For people are sad, people now care,

I hear the sound, it's soft but still there.