Tysons chickens a life of 42 days each one Hell

No one would believe the hell they go through
This is not what life’s about for sure
Birds designed with wings are meant for flying
For flapping for some space its natural law
But factory farms are camps of concentration
Armies of mass victims trapped in dirt
Tyson’s chickens find hell on their doorstep
Every single step they make does hurt

Their suffering is immense as is their outlook
Windowless sheds no light will ever be
Fed with blasted chemicals to make them over grow
And in 42 days they grow so rapidly
Their limbs cannot support their breasts and shoulders
Crippled by their own weight thats their lot
Lying all day in their own vile excrement
This is what some still put in their pot

Infections they have many, lots of festering sores
Maggots blooming everywhere coming from their pores
They get all tangled up in ropes and strangled in the wire
Organ failure spines crushed their hearts must be on fire
No water food to speak of no vets around to care
Just six short weeks minus their beaks
Then, they all know where
The slaughterhouse is ready grabbed and slammed in crates
Hell is here on earth for them all in worsening states

Really stop eating chicken putting them through this smell
The air is full of ammonia dead bodies describe hell
Corpses really everywhere festering and grim
Tysons chickens what the dickens who would buy from him
Or them, some corporation who doesn’t care a bit
Who lets the birds gain weight so fast that they sink in their own shit

I cant begin to imagine how all these chickens feel
They are social in their thinking and very very real
Of course each one has feeling and a personality
And we treat them like dirt under our feet which
Makes no sense to me