A cow
A female clearly she
Racked with fear
For her life was key
Clearly she waits

An abattoir
Rope on her horns
Pulled onto
Her crown of thorns
The end is near
The lights go out
We are left in little doubt

Soon alas she will be no more
Lifted and lost
And feeling sore
A cow
A female clearly she
not where she would have chosen to be

A juicy steak
In a griddle bar
or a rolling curry
A dish too far

A Crispy sausage
In a toasted bap
With loads of mustard
That people slap

A cow a female
Clearly she
Was racked with fear
And uncertainty

Sacrificed for the carnivores
Whose guts have seen
A thousands wars
Who will die in agony and pain
With arteries clogged
By her disdain

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