Giving Them a VOICE
By Bee
- 2180 reads
We who are about to die
silence cries behind the bars
that cripple limbs.
Crushed in body, mind and spirit,
bruised with sticks; transported
gasping, to a destination where death
is but a consolation for our fate,
we're skinned of dignity; kindness
of a family; home, a vivid memory.
We watch as fellow captives blister
in the flames, drown down river,
shiver, conscious of the knives that slice
through healthy sinuses - bones. Dropped live
into the vats of spitting stock, we scream
through curdled blood. Blood
is on your hands. Guilty man, may every evil
deed you've done to us come back to haunt
you; may you suffer in your dreams, each cut
and choke; feel the burn of boiling oil, as do
the innocents who perish by the millions,
at your hands, until you feel the need to STOP.
- Log in to post comments
Comments
Horrible, Bee. Getting
Horrible, Bee. Getting callous like this to animal suffering, must so easily lead to callousness to human suffering too. Rhiannon
- Log in to post comments
So many times you use the
So many times you use the letter 'I'. It really gives a snarl to this poem.
- Log in to post comments
Hi Bee
Hi Bee
This is the twin piece to the one I read yesterday, and just as biting in its message. But even in ths country, people kill lobsters live and listen to the noise they make as they go into the boiling water.
I can see you are going to make vegetarians out of the bunch of us. But maybe fish don't count as much. After all, before they are caught, they have very good lives, and they die quickly.
Jean
- Log in to post comments