Spanish Bulls

Lack of self respect
All out amity
Mean-spirited
So disaffected
Bulls, it seems to me
In Spain,are really subjected to
Incompatible tasks
The Spanish have a hatred
Their detestation asks

As they run and fight them
An anathema that pulls
Their spirit every which way
Exasperated they
Have to suffer torment injury
And with Red eyes pay

Up against the cowardly ones
Matadors they say
Taught to torture
Taught to harm
Bursts of anger
Way
higher than
Acerbity
Spitefulness and worse
Bulls take hits for little
It’s like an National curse

The thunder of the roadside hooves
The crude vulgarity
Taunting behind wooden slats
It’s treacherous to see
Flint-hearted toughs such malice
Such Vile brutality
Cold blooded ruthless arse oles
Present their savagery

The same bulls they have taunted
Are then put out to fight
Tortured twisted horns and cuts
Leaking blood the sight
Of people’s inhumanity
Blood thirsty ness it’s there
These Vicious viperous simpletons
Fill me with despair