That cheap leather jacket you just bought shame you didn’t give it more thought

Women and children watching
A female cow now sits
On a green tarp upon this earth
Fittingly her wits
Are still alive and feeling
The agony and the wrath
These Indians these cretins walk down Hathor’s path
To absolute iniquity
Into sin they go
For its leather it’s the leather trade
Who will not want to know

The likes of big retailers
Who shine on city streets
That cow is in such agony
How her heart still beats
But tHey want first grade leather
So a live cow suits them best
Skin the animal whilst alive
YES folks I do not jest

When it’s soft and pliable
Still living so to say
Children are now watching this
And they too they will pay
This is the stuff of nightmares
This is of the first degree
Such Antipathy and malice
It’s so loathsome actually

And all for someone’s leather shoes
Or jacket on the cheap
Bought from some market trader
It does it makes me weep
Or maybe some departmental store
Mental that is it
Shining on some busy street
And selling what’s not fit

To even be called leather
For its someone else’s skin
And this poor cow is suffering so
The vile aggressive sin
Of torture it’s so blatant
A female feeling so
Wretched being carved about
With just no where to go

The hatred that is obvious
The bitterness and pain
The absolute indignation
The poor cow sits in vain
Is she ever hopeful
That she can ever be
In a field of grass again
In heaven possibly

For me this is an outrage
The leather trade knows they
Are culpable and capable
The price that they now pay
The exporters in India
Is the reason why
It’s done so bloody awfully
So more profits will apply

The buyers here are sicko’s
The board rooms clearly full
Of psychopaths all earning
Whether it’skin or wool
Or fur of course they are earning
In their city apartments where
They drink their Booze
And smoke their cigars
Totally unaware

Of the evil that they promulgate
They conceal a flagrancy
The pompous self important mob
There for all to see
I have stood outside the London stores
With my megaphone and I
Have lifted some folk off the pavement
As some just passed by

But does it help to inform people
They are rich and do not care
Nobility hostility it now is everywhere
The indifference from the posters
That were displayed that day
People have a go at us
And tell us to go away

They desire soft leather
It feels and looks good too
Who cares about the female cow
Who cares about her who
Shares her pain and suffering
Indians who are paid
A pittance to give up their soul
To the leather trade

We look at them on Facebook
And feel a hatred for
Them but it’s the boardroom squalor
That lay down the law
They are the absoluTe rotters
Unwilling to be seen
It’s haute couture
And elegance
When We call it obscene

They take out an injunction
To clear us from their front
It’s causing them embarrassment
This so called protest stunt
It’s turning heads and harming trade
But some fight their way through
The blind the darkly psychopaths
Who just wear what they do

That cow will remain with me to my dying day

About Rex Tyler

I love animals. I enjoy writing poetry and delivering speeches.I like to mentor people who need help in preparing speeches and evaluations.I enjoy travel although it is much harder for me these days.I so enjoyed the Andes Mountains and Volcanoes and the Quichua people who live and thrive there.I have lots of friends around the world.
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