Our habit requires that blood be shed
So to slaughter the cattle head
Men with prods and a whip
pack them inside for one last trip
Inside they struggle for fresh air
The horror is seen in their stare
Made to suffer in the cold or heat
just because we call them meat
The last stop, the slaughter grounds
where they'll be reduced to simple pounds
From the journey they are wore
but they must endure even more
Down the ramp they stumble and slide
there's no place for the injured to hide
Forced, they enter the winding coral
so large and wide they scrape the rail
They don't know where they are led
or what's waiting in the killing shed
Pushed along like a mere food machine
they follow until the death is seen
To look ahead at each who fell
the nearing doom~a caustic smell
Racing heart, wide eyed with fright
the panic sets in at the sight
Moving along, the one ahead drops
in utter fear, he rears and stops
Now he knows the path to his fate
begins right here, at this open gate
If only this were a horrible mistake
but the final step he was forced to take
Behind him, the gate will close
all because of the food we chose
A captive bolt placed on his head
Stunned he falls, but he's not dead
The conveyor belt awaits his fall
for his limp body it will haul
The assembly line begins here
where billions come every year
Treated like objects in a factory
In the name of food~don't you see
In the room of bloody stains
a single hoof is attached to chains
Off the ground his body is flung
to await the knife, he is hung
He wakes up~this isn't rare
he's too much for a single leg to bare
Tendons tear and bones break
he swings and struggles for life's sake
Ghastly terror and unrelenting pain
his screams too are at best in vain
Men unfeeling to his brutal strife
slice him open with a knife
His body shakes as blood pours out
A simple meal, we're talking about
Taking only minutes to be bled
his anguish over, for now he's dead
Return to Poetry
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