Chicken farm extraordinary in Nottinghamshire

Having kept some backyard chickens
When I was but a child
I kind of learned to love them
In many ways they are wild
Excitable and present
They eat all of the time
They poop a lot
They do not pee
Night and day
It’s how they be

I learned a lot about wild foods
And collected stuff so they
Could get a bout of tonifying stuff
Along the way
4 huge barns
220,000 chicken, they
Confined to so much fury
Every single day
Ending up as processed meat
At Ruscliffe Borough where
Creating chickens for the table
Honestly, I despair

They are amazing actually
A mega facility
The smell will not be low
The base ecology
Each has an identity
Uniformity
It might be in accordance
With the scale
But honestly
Assembly lines and
Life itself it’s not the same you see

They have hearts and souls and as
Living beings
They think outside the cage
Packed into colossal barns
It’s really hard to gauge
What happens to an army
Their similarity
The intensification
Amounts to cruelty

Two staff and a process team
Imagining the din
The smells
The air the closeness
The chickens cannot win
It’s going to be a production line
A concentration camp
Why animals have to tow our line
And we expect to stamp
Out our various systems
Expecting these birds to
Answer to our regimen
From birth to death
The view
Output profit environments
Internal done with care
Its easy to write words down I know
But to really be aware
Of the numbers here
Huge numbers
Disorder from the start
Disharmony and foulness
Unhealthy seems to me
Pollution is a problem
There is no set lavatory
Chickens they mess anywhere
The stench can really be
Germ laden and venomous
That’s if you ask me.

PETA knows better than Chicken farmers