Pigs why are the so disregarded by the masses

Pigs are not the dirty brutes
That farming would have us believe
That are loving mothers
With valuable families
Born wanting to achieve
The best for their offspring
Wild pigs known as BOARS
If living in a forest somewhere
Know of course, because

They are mothers
They are families
Pre programmed yes to care
To love their offspring
And Look after them
All mothers are aware
But lock them up in farrowing crates
When pregnant
Imagine that
Behind bars
Just No where to turn
Frustration
Well it stars

Big time in a pigs life
Bored out of their head
Chewing at the bars
Alas
Suffering, that said
And when they give birth
Their babies are often crushed, for they
Have no space to miss them
They are locked there
Night and day

A factory farm is a dirty place
The infants where infants teeth are clipped
Their testicles torn off by man
Yes they are just ripped
No pain killers just torn off
Say anything and you
Will get a bloody answer
For that is what they do

Their farming
Pigs get no real care
The stench of it is high
It’s hell on earth for the mothers
Who openly sit and cry

As for human beings
Who buy into this trade
Who want their crispy bacon
And their spare ribs
Yes first grade
Sausages and belly pork
And crackling as well
These poor pigs go through
Every Ill
Yes We make their poor lives Hell.

Pigs are loving mothers
No sweat glands so they must
Not get overheated
Which is why living in dust
And dirt and shit and ugliness
No place to build a nest
Farming doesn’t account for god
And just fails every test

They live in their own excrement
A no no for a pig
I have seen pigs in the wild
They love to grub and dig
Carefree in a natural wood
Roots and plants they eat
They do feel for their offspring
And really we just cheat

All their natural instincts
Confined is not their scene
Imagine how dirt feels for them
Yes it feels obscene
Watching their babies thrown about
By ugly farming scum
Labouring the point alas
That all farmed pigs are dumb

It’s how they are, they love it
Tortured everydayThe mothers
Cannot move without the pain
And in every way
Piglets get a beating
Thrown against the wall
“Thumped” they call it
Violence just watch them when they fall

Heaving legs still moving
Breath is leaving fastThese are little babies
All flags fly at half mast
So many little hearts stop beating
So many eyes get filled with tears
This is what it’s like to farm the pigs
fears Fears Fears TEARS