My skin meant so much to me
on the fence the stile the tree
feeling raindrops on my back
its how they use to be
from my head down to my tail
my skin my precious skin
and now we have reached the death house
that dark drab place of sin
from my head down to my tail
My skin my precious skin
contraptions they were everywhere
Into a hellish din
they hacked off my two front legs
hanging sideways in the air
my skin bleeding profusely
It just was never fair
waiting quietly for my maker
the bloody Leather Industry.
greasy broken finger nails
and shit for eyes it feels to me.
Rex Tyler is a Poet, Campaigner, former owner of an organic shop of 30 years, and Public Speaker living in Berkhamsted, UK.