Of course we know
we’re the activists
we have megaphones
we don’t do fists
Australia, my goddess we
know where the audits end up
we see
the evil
watch this if you can
the wheel of death
how it began
when you ate meat
when you said cow
that when the unkind sods said how
when hopelessness knocked on the door
despondency despair what for?
the comfortless end to a mothers life
sawed ear to ear by the rusty knife
ill omened and ominous
how its done
its a tawdry wheel
out of the sun
the dread and awe
of a mothers eyes
the alarm and panic
of one so wise
terror crazed
and panic stricken
that’s when her blood
begins to thicken
she is humble
and her resignation
tells us
of her pure creation
the hatred of the slaughter man
an abomination
who now can
loathe in such a revengeful way
detest and abhor
and make her pay
for just being there
for just thinking she
as a mother should never be
on the wheel of death
where she loses breath
where she has to bleed
and death does feed
the ugly detestable carnivore
who without our tears
just does ignore
her cries of pain
her agony
on a pristine tray
soon she will be
the worst intentions
we witness here
that long sea crossing
with all that fear
built up inside
those mothers who
most were milked out
because of YOU
no benevolence
no kind heart
the worst intentions
were bound to start
spitefulness viciousness
bitterness too
rancour and gloating
that’s what they do
left to die
in the pit of sin
live exports
killed
and they just grin
heartless nasty bits of work
look at that sod
just a jerk
with no respect
in his soul at all
as the mother hangs on the bloodied wall
a sorry end
to somebody’s friend
to the Summerland
her soul will wend
Rex Tyler is a Poet, Campaigner, former owner of an organic shop of 30 years, and Public Speaker living in Berkhamsted, UK.