Poor Misbegotten Soul Poem by Sidi Mahtrow

Poor Misbegotten Soul

See him standing there
Balanced on two legs
Others, dangling in the air.

He cannot run
Nor can he jump.
Nature imposed on such as he
That right, he'll never be.

Then, as only one who
Has never tasted mother's milk
Or the luxury of green's free
No berries, flower tips never
Tasty herbs, garlic, onions
And astringent flavors free.

The poor blighted, hapless one
Comes to see us most every day
And stands silent, while we play
Perhaps wishing that he could be free
Of the sad shape that Nature imposed on he.

But, I, a calf must go and seek
My mother who has of kindness, offers the taste of milk.

(He only stands and waits, as viewed by the angus calf.)