Gone

The hawk sat in his tree,
Inside of the ditch unliked by all,
A baby goat wondering saw the hawk,
Intrigued he walked into the ditch,
The hawk screeched,
The baby goat was filled with fear like a balloon filled with air,
The hawk flew over the goat,
He beckoned “You’re mine now!”
He picked up the goat with his sharp talons,
The goat wriggled struggling to break free,
The hawk flew higher and higher,
Drip-drip-drip the blood spilled from the goat staining the hawk’s talons,
the goat stuttered “Why?”
The hawk calmly stated “it’s what I do.”