by Guila Manchester
The lighted window shows the room
so warm and softly glowing,
The tree so tall with twinkling lights
And all the presents showing.
While just outside a starving cat
Stands shivering in the cold,
And down the street a stray dog limps,
So tired and sick and old.
The baby monkey in the lab
Lets out a cry of fear.
The thing he thought was mother
Shot out quills when he drew near.
The car speeds by, the puppy cries
And drags her broken leg.
The beaver in the leghold trap
Lifts pain-filled eyes that beg.
How can we speak of peace on earth
And know these things are so,
And say they don't concern us
And we ought to let them go?
How can we think we have the right
To torture needlessly,
When all the time we know so well
It shouldn't have to be.
Come join with us at Christmas time
And pledge ourselves anew.
They need our help so badly,
There's so much that we can do.
Don't turn your back upon their pain
Because it's hard to see.
They have no other place to turn,
They've only you and me.
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