Follow the Donkey

I am a donkey
Some people call me plonky.
When I try to sing
it’s off-key.

When I walk the trail
I’m trailing.
When there’s a carrot on a stick
it’s plain sailing.

When the trains came
they were smoky
as they chugged along
my resentment was strong.

When I walked the trail
I had purpose.
Now the chugging machines
have replaced us.

Now I only walk in fields
my labour bears no yield.
I am now just a donkey
in a field.