Foie gras

Ok i am a goose
Just a bird, some might say
But I do have a right of respect
And today
Locked in this farm
In France what they do
Is force feed, us all
Yes folks its true

My throat its so sore
My legs are so tired
Hour after hour
Though being high wired
My liver is painful
Aching like hell
Sick to my soul
I just do not feel well

Nobody loves me
Nobody cares
This fatty corn
That the farming bloke shares
The stench of his breath
His roughness, the pain
All of this hell
Its just one massive drain

And For what?
For foie gras
Diseased liver in fact
At the end of this week
How I react
To being stabbed in the throat
Seeing life at an end
From the day I was born
Until the end
Not one friend!

Foie gras
Buman beings
Gorge on our pain
Their karma
The farmer
No charmer
The bane
Of life and existence
As evil as sin
The scum of the earth
Now sold by the tin
On line and in Harrods
Solid despair
Woe, death and ugliness
How is it fair

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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