Cripples and Downers

Downers and Cripples
They often arrive
at the slaughterhouse gates
With a will to survive
They don’t want to die
Even factory farmed
Even hit with a pitch fork
And continuously harmed

They still do appreciate life
and the threat
Of it being snuffed out
It does make them sweat
Their loves, and their memories
Their routine day
Of course they do value
It, if they could say

Please spare us
We know we are crippled
but we
Still prefer to let God
Take us rather than thee
Then a lead pipe comes down
hard on their back
Its a vile and a cowardly
indiscriminate attack
The poor thing attempts
to get up but falls down
So a bill hook is used
And the man goes to town
Hooking its arse and tearing it
so
The blood and the gore and the pain
Its a low
life now employed to bare witness
and see
What happens to downers
and cripples like me
Its holding up slaughter
of those still behind
in the tunnel of death
Where the blind lead the blind
hung up
throats slit
entrails dangling down
a deluge of blood
In it, a child could drown
Its eye sockets rolling
This is what they do
And where does this meat go
It could come to you
Its sent to the schools
Processed and ready
For the country fools
Its people, the schools charge
for this kind of fayre
And all but the few
are really aware