I lost, my boy, Today
\nthey just took him away
\ncame at the crack of Dawn
\nthey didn’t even warn
\nhe, was fast asleep
\nhis eyes they flickered
\nwhite
\nthat farm girl she came in
\nand swept him out of sight<\/p>\n
I felt this sudden loss
\nHe was my special boy
\nthe way he drank my milk
\nhis eyes were full of joy
\nhe was unlike the rest
\nfor me, he was the best
\na gentle little soul
\nits hard to now control
\nmyself, I want to cry
\nmaybe, even die<\/p>\n
for though I had been raped
\nthat tousled hair
\nhad scraped
\nhe smelled, his breath
\nwas rank
\nI recall now how he
\nstank
\nbut the baby I had had
\nthat I carried inside, I
\nreally loved him for he
\nwas a very special guy<\/p>\n
so gentle on my teats
\nso warm and fulfilled was, I
\nfeelings seldom
\nexperienced
\nnow tears roll
\nfrom each eye
\nI cannot bear to think
\nwhat she has done to him
\nthat bimbo she
\nwho flicks her hair of gold
\nthat highly perfumed bitch
\nher voice at a high pitch
\nhas taken my dear boy
\njust 3 days old<\/p>\n
but in that 3 days
\nI grew to adore him
\na mother loves her babies
\nanyway
\nit didn’t matter
\nthat it wasn’t love
\nthat brought him to me
\nit only mattered
\nthat he was okay<\/p>\n
but now he’s gone
\nand I may never see him
\nmy precious milk he cannot
\ntaste again
\nHe could already have been killed
\nstomped on till his blood was spilled
\nor he could
\nbe with the runts
\nout in the rain
\nready for slaughter
\nso the human earthlings can
\ngobble down the cheese that makes them wheeze
\n my babies stomach ripped out
\nfor
\nthe rennin
\nthe coagulation enzyme
\nif you please<\/p>\n
more doubt for the
\npoor cow, who goes through
\nall of this
\npossibly 4 or 5 times
\nbefore, she too
\nwill kiss
\nher concrete stall goodbye
\nwhen she is carted off to be
\nled inside the final door
\nand slaughtered mercilessly<\/p>\n
his body broken up and used to feed
\nthe scary hounds
\nthat piss up the barn doors
\nwhilst, the Farmer does his rounds
\nfine leather costing pounds
\nsome women will be sporting
\nmy sons skin,
\nme thinks, through towns
\na fancy hand bag
\ncan she ever realize
\nor see
\nthat what she has,is the skin
\nof my boy
\nwho they came and murdered
\nthe boy that her God
\nf*****g gave to me.<\/p>\n
of course I’m bitter
\nwhat you human beings
\nsupposedly, so sentient, now do
\nyou rape us and you throw away
\nour babies
\nyou murder them
\nwe hear them crying through
\nthe pain, as you inflict it all upon them
\nterrorize and stomp on them
\ntill death
\nso you can remove from them
\nthe rennin
\nand for this milk coagulant
\ntheir breath
\nis stopped you murderous heathens
\nI must say
\nwhat you do to us
\nthough we’re so docile
\nwill rapidly catch you up
\non judgement day <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Raped and then expecting to give up precious sons so that sentient’s can make cheese from their stomach linings and scoff so much of it till the cholesterol eventually bungs up their arteries and then they probably kill some poor sow to replace their heart valves. Yes I am angry and bitter I am sentient I am that cow Continue reading