CONNOR P TELLS IT LIKE IT IS
As I listen to a purple painted violin played softly, I am taken back to a time of sorrow. The memory takes me back to a dark place I wish I had never been.
“No, not another one!” I scream in horror, watching the animals go down like targets of a gun.
A happy, yet helpless elephant minding his own business, oblivious to the fact that it’s precious ivory is worth thousands in the black market, shot dead at close range.
Another one shot down screaming in agony. The poachers move in, the elephant’s ivory ripped like paper.