Your heart is not at the right place
Where your heart is
Lies a source of disease
Said the doctor with a long face.
You say of late you’re losing energy
Cold, cough, sneeze is on the rise
As to the cause of this persisting allergy
I’m left with no surprise.
For good reasons is said
Man shapes his own destiny
Go forward and have it made
Set those poor ones free.
If I had my way
I would have pulled his hair
But just managed to say
This is so unfair.
What damage those poor things can do
Other than giving good company
And I don’t believe it to be true
They are the cause of my agony.
Just because they can’t protest
Winged but still left lame
The doctor finds it best
To shift on them the blame.
Behind specs his eyes shone
His lips quivered in glee
As if he had chanced upon
One great discovery.
If only you earnestly wish
The prospect you truly fathom
Can find yourself a cure for disease
In exchange of their freedom.