fauxcroft

It drains your blood

Until dizzy in the head,

The aspic from your meat is still fresh

They’ll eat you away until nothing is left

Born for no much else but death,

Sinews and muscles all stretched and taut

A prize such as you is eagerly sought,

The flesh you wear so greedily bought

There was was no struggle when you were caught,

Stress only cheapens your meat

Waited until you were tired and weak,

Outlook was always so bleak

Did you ever have the feeling you were free?

It’s a mystery to me why we crave the meat

Pan fried, roasted in the heat,

That is life of a nightmarish scene

So much preparation to make everything clean,

For the slaughtered.