What could have hurt a Gecko
Who never hunted a fly?
Crushing her leg,
Immobilising her…
She's never walked a yard off the truss,
Away from home-
A tea canteen…
The patrons enjoyed the sight,
That accompanied the snack,
Pointing out how unusual pig tailed she looked…
Until she fell off the rafter,
That she become unusual sight,
Lay motionless, unnoticed,
Half covered by dust,
They tramped on her
Till her blood socked the earth
And she laid there a big lump of soil.
She didn't move for quite time,
Till, discovered dead
Was mourned by clinks and spits!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem