A mother PIG tells all

Farmers they are piss poor
And as ignorant as sin
They force me to be pregnant
You see I cannot win
Then thrust me in a wire cage
I cant stand up and so
I lay there feeling grumpy
Oh yea lockeddown I know

Babies forming inside me
Stiffness and some pain
For months on end I lay here
It is hard to stay sane
Itches aches and tenderness
Cramp and bloody sores
A mother lying painfully
Answering all their scores

In what is called a gestation crate
A torture chamber where
I would like to force a farmer into
Just mAke him aware
How bloody uncomfortable it is
To really just lay still
Whilst rats run over you at night
And, your blood they spill

Making me get up once a week
On legs all tired and sore
Kicking me up the arise
His filthy boots yes he does score
Big time on my bruises
These rotten farming gits should be
Laying here with me outside
Yes That I would now like to see