PRAISE FOR PITY

‘Pity me’, ‘pity me’, said the thorny cactus,

‘No beauty no charm,

The only job I seem to do is to harm.

Full of thorns,

I always earn people’s scorns.

Smooth glistening surface I wish I had,

Perhaps then would I have made all so glad.

Pity me, Ah! Pity me.’

‘Poor me’, ‘poor me’, said the lovely rose

‘As soon as I bloom,

I welcome my doom,

Plucked and woven into garlands,

Pinned on the hair and pasted to the welcome chair.

Beauty and fragrance I wish I had none,

Only perhaps then would I live long.

Poor me, Oh! Poor me.’

‘Pity me’, ‘pity me’, said the mammoth hippo

‘So difficult for me to establish a rapport.

Hardly can I move with ease,

No one can I easily please.

This body so huge,

Gives me no refuge,

From punters, poachers and ravenous hunters.

If only were I slender and small,

Could I hop, jump, skip and maul.

Pity me, Ah! Pity me.’

‘Poor me’, ‘poor me’ said the tiny ant

‘Small, puny and insignificant am I.

No efficiency, no proficiency,

No talents to boast, no beauty to behold.

Endless trips to gather my daily bread,

Makes me stare at my life with dread.

So easily crushed underfoot,

I’m easily overlooked.

Not even will you find me in a zoo,

Where there are animals and birds of all colours and hue.

What a wretched existence! Poor me, Oh! Poor me.’

‘Beauty I lack – how I wish for the looks of a diva!

Luxury so badly I miss – Oh! For that crowning glory of bliss,

Love I desperately seek – for the warmth of an embrace, a hug and a kiss,

Success eludes me to my disgrace,

All that is left is to stare at empty space,

Seeking solace to run this race.

Pity me, Ah! Pity me’, cried the fair maiden.

Out came a bunch of jolly little kids,

Smelling the roses, the lilies and the orchids.

Chasing butterflies, uttering no sighs,

Hopping and laughing, running and singing.

Said one to the other, “I thank the Lord for my dark hue,

I praise Him for the cool drops of dew.

I thank Him for the blood in my veins,

I praise Him for His mercy never ends.”

Said the other in reply, “I thank the Lord for my blind eyes,

For keeping me guarded from all things unwise,

I praise the Lord for the breeze so cool,

When I sit by the blue waters of the pool.

There is no time to pout in self-pity,

When you witness nature’s bounty.

So, I just thank God for making me Me.”