Ducks deserve better

Godly creatures
So designed
Webbed feet
They always were aligned
to water all of
That we know
But not the farmers
Of foie gras NO

Souls are kept
In cages standing
Hardly adept upright each day
And force fed fat
And balls of corn
Thrust down their throats
In a pipe this way

Called gavage
An awful way
Ducks are susceptible and suffer they
Feel their livers are growing fast
Getting fatter
And with each blast
Of fat and corn shoved manually
It all grows exponentially

Causing sickness
And an aching gut
The sorest throat
Wanting to shut
Ones mouth To just
get on a pond
And with the willows
again bond.
The liver swells
At least ten times
The size god gave
For it sells

This diseased liver
The French admire
They eat it often
Then retire
To sleep it off
To realise
Foie gras
Is eaten by the unwise

Internal violence
Vile ferment
A sad stramash
Adversely sent
Cloying acidic really bad
Unhealthy karmically
Your mad

These poor ducks
Really suffer so
Its obnoxiousness
Now then you know
Persecution its pathetic
And no one around
Is sympathetic

Their suffering its every day
No let up spitefulness they say
Scruffy manky foul and rank
Seeing them, my heart just sank
Standing upright making sounds
Weird and painful
Which just drowns

Out the good and vital where
The evil eye is made to bear
The mangled spoiled and imperfect way
That poor ducks drift into dismay
Lamentable deplorable
Burdensome and more
Bloody throats and acbing souls
Victims in the foie gras war

Who would want to eat
A diseased liver
From a glorious duck tortured each day
Whose delicate constitution
Has been ruined
By an ulcerated gathering
And way
Too much fat stuffed into
A young ducks body
Nauseous and queasy such a shame
Really should be laid up
And resting in the water
Instead the farmer really is to blame

As ignorant as any farmer ever
Uncaring in his irresponsible way
Out to make big profits from his torturing
Incompetent and feckless
So to say
As for the consumer
Away

Off the scale of decency
A coward prepared to pay
For a characterless confusion
To disgrace ones self and play
Into the vile transgression
Of the brazen few
On this earth to squander
And do what they choose to do.