Do you not taste their very suffering?
Can you not hear their cries?
Their eyes gleaming in their last moments
The tears falling down soft cheeks
Moans and wails
Hacking and slashing
An electric jolt
Passing through the brain
Does it dull the pain?
Does it really make them numb?
As they witness their own butchering
As they are carried down the line
As you consume them
Thousands every day
The same fate
All the same
The same
The same
One wire cage after another
A faceless one
Unable to walk
To move
To live
One crate after another
A 16 week old youngling
Ready for the butcher
Hasn't moved all his life
Not one inch
Perfect for the butcher
On baby boy
On top of another
And another
Surrounded
Suffocated by their own existence
Who's to say what the mother thinks
When her young boy is taken from her
Who's to say what each of them thinks
When they see their first glimpse of the sky
Who's to say what they believe
When they are then delivered to their doom
Can you not hear their cries?
One moan
Followed by another
The screams of another
The pitiful pleas that no one understands
Can you not taste their suffering?
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