Even in death, hear the whimper & sigh,
Hear it even in silence, everyday that goes by
A blow to the ribs, a kick in the teeth
A punishment served daily -
A pure diet of grief.
The Saint for all animals, if that title was mine,
I�d show you no mercy in your box made of pine.
An eye for an eye is how your story would go,
So you�d know the pain of each hurtful blow.
Woe to you know ... may it be on your head
t�was not the animal who died
but you that is dead.
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