Pigs slaves to man unkind

Omnivores
So badly thought of
By some humans who
Have been brainwashed
By the farming crowd
By the meat trade
Clueless to

The immaculateness
Of the wild pigs
The wild hogs
And the swine
Who are kindly family
Members
With lifestyles
That entwine

Purpose and methodology
Spring cleaning is their thing
They have no sweat glands
And their need
Is to stay cool
And to bring

Their temperature
To goodly degrees
Heat for them can be
Upsetting and uncomfortable
Which is why they be

Deteriorating rapidly
As slaves of human unkind
Placed in vile gestation crates
That instinctively just grind
Them down then forced
To defecate where they
Lie and they
Are put off and upset
By Living like that each day

Acquiring filthy standards
For they themselves are clean
They never lie in their toilet
They never would have been
Anywhere it’s only man
The meat traders who make
Them go against their better judgement
And their habits break

They root in forests madly
Adaptable they be
They are the original survivors
Their salubriously
Governed by their lifestyle
macrobiotic they
Eat what they were programmed
To eat most every day

Rooting their strong snouts
Are into yang foods, it’s their thing
Wallowing in muds and damp
It’s cooling that does bring
Their energy their ability
To maintain their being true
They make nests for their
Babies
It’s, what wild pigs do

Slave traders that’s our title
Captivity our thing
Taking the wild animal
And, making them bring
All their instinctive know how
Their very make up to
Our evil intention
And ofcourse the meat trade do

Lay down their intentions
And farmers came to be
Brought their economics
And their insanity.down upon an animal
A loving caring soul
And made them into slaves
Under our control

Forced them inside
out of the
Woods the roots the trees
MAde them live in concrete pens
Out of the sun no breeze
Just artificiality
And cruelty and pain
Prisoners of consciousness
With little left to gain

We fed them what we wanted to
Nothing fresh no roots
We treated them abysmally
We let them feel our boots
We snipped their tails
We snipped their teeth
We castrated them at will
No painkillers for they were swine
Besides vets have a bill

And these are pigs so labourers
Can with a pair of pliers
Snip their little testicles
We can all be liars
Pretending it doesn’t happen
But every pig feels pain
Every pig feels everything
It’s the farmer whose insane

We tagged their ears imagine that
We spray paint them when we
Decide they are to visit
The slaughterhouse, we be
Totally unreasonable unthinking
We don’t care
We treat them with dissension
And think they are unaware

But they are very with it
They show us self control
Despite our repression and coercion
Each dear soul
Accept solitary confinement
Internment and the rest
The bondage and the slavery
As if it was a test

We view them as our prisoners
That is what we do
When we get frustrated
We kick them YES its true
We swear at them we harm the piglets
They suffer very much
As captives living behind our bars
We are out of touch

They suffer for our poverty
Our insufficiency
They often live in shitty pens
Not where they want to be
We do treat them like vagrants
With our poverty
Of spirit we are callous
For pigs are wonderfully

Caring of each other
There is no parsimony
They are generous to each other
It’s how they were born to be
It’s man unkind that threatens them
The stingy nasty shit
Whose impulse is to harm
And treat them to his wit

To put them through his tedium
His melancholic way
They are on his treadmill
His unentertaining way
No rooting and no tree rubs
No wallows nothing they
Are bored to death and clearly
Fatigued along the way

Often starved of water
A torture in the extreme
Condemning them to purgatory
More than it does seem
Chastising them and punching them
For being in the way
Giving them the third degree
Every flipping day

Sending them to slaughter
In a filthy dirty truck
Many miles to suffer
Despite their honest pluck
To closely stand together
And give each other care
Thrown about no water
And nobody there to share

To care for them
And if protectors see them
Along the way
And offer them some water
The cops come right away
Threaten people helping them
That is what we see
No compassion not a spark
Of human empathy

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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