4 years young
So I am hung
My throat cut
I bleed out
Before this utter torture
If you were in any doubt
Just go see what happened
A piglet
Had my tail
Snipped off by some arse ole
Clearly on the trail
Of ISIS and the rest of them
Them my bollocks torn
Out of me with rusty pliers
Ye some of you yawn
Half crushed in the gestation crate
Wet with shit and slime
The next 3 years
In a prison crate
To go mad
To pass the time
Biting the bars
A pastime
Screaming night and day
Hopeful of a nice green field
To pass some time away
But concrete is our saviour
A kicking is our pain
Beaten till we are senseless
And then beaten again
And really what was it all about
Some crackling on your plate
Some spare ribs from the take away
I hope they tasted great
Scratchings with your lager
Sausage casings to
I wasn’t created for all of this
That has to be my view
Rex Tyler is a Poet, Campaigner, former owner of an organic shop of 30 years, and Public Speaker living in Berkhamsted, UK.