Lumberjacks

We searched high and low
For the tallest we could find.
No need for the young and fresh.
Let those grow taller,
‘Til the tips touch the skies
Then we may return
To reap their sons and daughters.

Ten men here,
Ten over there,
Twenty in total makes the team.
Axes, saws, drills, and chains
Prepare their reckoning.
Hear their cries, their creaks of woe.
The sap now heavily gushes –
Flows.

Their lives, to men, aren’t seen as such.
We hack and we slash,
We cut and we pull,
We beat them to a pasty pulp.
They live and let live,
Are docile and true.
We look down upon them.
“We’re bigger than you.”