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He's ten
feet tall with grizzled hair,
But he is very shy,
He roams the woods, the hills and vales,
His presence, they deny.
He walks
at night among the hills,
And sleeps throughout the day,
For that is how he can survive,
And keep them all at bay.
But that
is not what he would choose,
If he could do it right,
But that is how they've treated him,
So now he roams at night.
He knows
that if they captured him,
They'd tear him all apart,
To find out how he came to be,
And mark it on their chart.
A
lonesome being made by God,
But this is where he's put,
A creature sometimes called 'Sasquatch',
But most times called 'Bigfoot'.
Now, is
this fantasy or real?
Well, only time will tell,
But until then he holds our gaze,
And keeps us in his spell.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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