the BULL

Any sentient being
Has the ability to know
When somebody cares for them
Is responsible and does show
Them respect and give them food
And talk to them they know
It is rare that they would bite the hand
That feeds them and helps them grow

They recognize a friendly face
They have the capacity
And they are so discerning
Its their acuity
They see and they all realise
Those friending them and they
Would always choose to protect them
Than harm them any way

As for bulls and fighting
And running in the street
Having all been tortured and doctored
The deceit
Of all these spanish cities
Of all these bullfighting towns
The cruelty is evident
The bull all of them drowns
In their own blood and suffering
Stuck and stuffed like hell
Again the poor old horses
They also have to gel
Animals get beaten get stabbed
And shocked and hurt
And of course they will try to fight back
When they feel inert
Within their hearts they only wish
For peace and quiet for they
Are amazing animals
Who pass the time of day
Retreating into spirit
Rumination means
the ability to digest the grass
Truthfully it leans
Into regurgitation
The cud needs so much thought
Fighting is inviting
It never is a sport

It never is a culture
Its cruelty right through
And matadors get gored thank god
For its what the bull must do
Has to try and protect itself
But would be prepared to run
Just get out of that bloody ring
And run into the sun