Anyone whose sensitive
Visiting the factory farm
Can pick up on the heartache
The discontent the current harm
The anguish and the angst
You can cut it with a knife
Pigs held captive honestly
Fearful for their life
Its purgatory for them
Pigs have no sweat glands
And they are hugely sensitive
Throughout the worldly sands
Of time, forced into factories
Militarised they be
Made to dump where they must sleep
In wretched misery

Their suffering is dreadful
Haggard and plagued they be
Human beings involved in factory farming
Just don’t see
Or realise they suffer
Stricken by it all
Hopeless and despairing
For no one hears them call
Of course there is sorrow
They are grieving, they are lost
Wholly humiliated
For them its been a cost
Far too high, its offends them
The harshness and the pain
Imagine being made to stand
In shit
And pure disdain.

And then carted to the death house
No food no water they
Are made to walk the plank of death
Like pirates so to say
Electro prodded all the way
And they can hear the screams
Of those who went before them
It fills their worst dreams
Sorrow so much sorrow
But bacon eating slobs
Do not pick up on it
How evil kind of robs
The senses in so many ways
The karmic debt though grows
How corrosive and vitriolic
Adds something to the prose

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