Butchers

They seem to believe they can vindicate
Their murdering intent
Kidnapping a baby calf, a child
Creation sent
Carried by a mother for nine long months
Where she
Struggled and worked her butt off
Hopeful she would see

Her baby she couldc love it
She could feed it and could care
But the farmer had other ideas
And was unaware
Of the mother to him she was nothing
She had no feelings all she was
Was a milk machine she had always been
And, that was because

He was a dairy farmer he loved his poor cows so
But as to true creation
He didnt want to know
The calf was about his milk supply
So the calf just had to go
For rennet or for pet food
But the mother loved him so

And so followed at a pace behind
Until her heart gave flight
She was old and tired and spent
She’d been tortured alright
The butcher and the farmer
Two oafs I have to say
See pound notes in the bank account
Thats all sadly the way

Years ago it was thistles
Wild plants of the field
That created all the rennin
To give cheese better yield
But using baby calves for that
Some sick sod realised
Their stomach lining was adequate
And so for that was prized

Rennet later veal thats tortured babies
Fed on slops
Denied the milk of their mother
Who is then just seen as chops
And legs and steaks and joints of meat
Not a living breathing soul
Who farts more methane into the air
Than the oil barons and coal

Butchers counter argument
Is someone has to do
The work whilst there are carnivores
And the money is good too
So they work with the slaughterhouses
Cut up bodies fast and sell
Trillions of soulful animals
That infact enter our hell

The MEAT trade is the murder trade