The Bilby

Tail like a whip, eyes dark as night

Paws strong as steel.

Bilbies bearing the bitter sight. 

Broken-hearted by the sight, the sight of burnt trees. 

The once-green grass, now pitch black.

Trees blowing gently in the wind,

The grubby plains were dusty.

There's only 3,000 of us.

Constantly on the run.

Away from home, and never having fun.

My family got caught, I can't save them,

I have to keep going, although heart hurting.

Soon I'll be the one, the only one.

Looking back there, my family dead.

A Tear runs down my eyes.

I see a small hole in the tree, I have to escape.

Life on the line, soon to be gone.

My life is held together by a string,

Constantly on the run.

Life miserable, nothing to live for...