Those poor sheep

Watching those sheep
In the slaughterhouse
The process that was used
The obtuseness of the operatives
As they just abused
One after another
Slamming them down
Before
cutting their heads
Hacking at them
And throwing them on the floor

These are men with families
Part of the human race
Soulless inhuman spiritless shits
Sharing the same space
With these innocent sheep
These loving souls
Being tortured in plain site
Its hard to select words to use
For Nothing appears right

Each sheeps eyes could see
The blood bath
And just How it must feel
in their place
With the threat so real
And no where to escape to
just murdered two by two
So others can go and buy your flesh
in plastic trays as many do

The suffering emotionally
And bodily must be so
Anguished and angst-ridden
Long suffering we know
But seeing this on camera
Its an insult and an affront
To sanity its depravity
Really to be blunt

Those operatives are criminale
That slaughterhouse should be
Closed down and all of them charged
It was hideous to see
How some would try and get away
Jump and leap and be
Caught and violently dispatched
Their squalor all could see
these are human beings
We might pass in the street
Our children might be friends with them
Washed up they look a treat

And people eat this hatred
This vile antipathy
Give it to their children
Such iniquity
Abhorrence is the quality
So nauseous and wrong
These operatives and those who eat
This meat do not belong
on this earth I have come to terms
A vegan has to be
An angel compared to these
Vile shits
With such indignity

They draw their bloody money
They pay their bloody bills
They go into the butchers
And fill up the butchers tills
The karma and the morbid ill
That must surround the sale
Of all this blood-thirsty barbarousness
And the brutish trail

Discharging all this filth
Into the latrines of the day
Fouling their evil bodies
With a lamentable decay
The callous pitiless qualities
The unforgiving way
These babies were all murdered
With such spivvery at play

I pity their poor mothers
I pity their poor wives
To have to breathe the same air
All their pitiful lives
To have to sleep with monsters
For that is what they are
No one does this kind of job
Sets out to bloody scar

The victims whether seeing
On unseeing it matters not
The flesh trade is the murder trade
And its operatives should not
Be allowed to enter a civisation
Where
after their performances
They can actually share

Commit them to hard labour for at least twenty years
And I mean hard!

Video from Melbourne chicken save
AUSTRALIA AGAIN EVIL CRUELTY