BONSON WOOD GAME FARM BRIDGEWATER SOMERSET<\/p>\n
One imagines
\nfarms of beautiful birds
\nWhere millions of them
\nare raised each year
\nSheds of Pheasants
\nand partridges
\nBedlam and chaos
\nfrom ear to ear<\/p>\n
Disharmony everywhere
\nsimply no order
\nSlatternly messy and vile
\nA roughhouse of violence
\nAnd impetuosity
\nReally it feels
\noff the dial<\/p>\n
Noisy and whooping
\nand screaming
\nReally it\u2019s no place to be
\nAn unwarranted
\nunfounded existence
\nDemonstrating
\nreal sophistry<\/p>\n
Packed into cages for ages
\nFemales attacked everyday
\nRaped of their feathers
\nAnd bodily skin
\nNo duty of care
\nAnyway<\/p>\n
It is
\ngender discrimination
\nAllowing the females
\nto be
\nRaped on the spot
\nto be injured a lot
\nWhen they should
\nhave the capacity<\/p>\n
To prevent female birds
\ngetting injured
\nAnd prevent
\nother birds being harmed
\nHundreds were being
\nfound dead in their cages
\nHardly a picture, thats charmed<\/p>\n
Anyone caught
\nin the clutches
\nNeglect it\u2019s a reason
\nI\u2019d say
\nSo many victims
\nBlighted and thwarted
\nAnd actually just thrown away<\/p>\n
The arrogance
\nthat becomes normal
\nToo many birds
\nin one space
\nCauses the most mental issues abroad
\nFarming it\u2019s just a disgrace<\/p>\n
And what is the outcome
\npray tell me
\nThese beautiful birds
\nall we do
\nIs release them
\nand see them shot out of the sky
\nBy the monsters
\nwho don\u2019t have a clue<\/p>\n
Life has become one great horror
\nVeracity lost in the race
\nIt is unembroidered
\nit is unaffected
\nIt is unpretentious
\nit\u2019s true<\/p>\n
The evil is clearly so rampant
\nEffortlessly we proclaim
\nCreation and life force
\nAnd the will to be whole
\nIs one little part of the game<\/p>\n
Wiping out realisation
\nIdentities lost in a way
\nA striking likeness
\nto hell of a being
\nAn unflattering portrait at play<\/p>\n
Sinking as we do
\ninto the great pit
\nWhere millions of lives
\nnow are lost
\nBeautiful elegant pheasants
\ntheir colours
\nTheir heartbeats
\ntheir tiny souls tossed<\/p>\n
Into the maelstrom of shooting
\nWiped out and removed from the sky
\nAnd it\u2019s all just about
\nthe infusion of being
\nAhead of another
\nvile guy<\/p>\n
Having ones eye on a target
\nA life doomed before
\nit\u2019s time
\nThis is the footprint
\nwe leave for our children
\nAs one after another
\nthey climb<\/p>\n
On the wind
\nto be somewhere wings
\nto be free
\nLifting their bodies
\nwanting to see
\nHigh in the heavens far far aWay
\nBut caught by the lead
\nthat just makes them pay<\/p>\n
Spiralling downwards
\nhitting the ground
\nIn the blood and the guts
\nand the death
\nWe expound
\nOur thoughts and our love for the
\nSport of the king
\nWho can pick up his gun
\nAnd just do anything<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
BONSON WOOD GAME FARM BRIDGEWATER SOMERSET One imagines farms of beautiful birds Where millions of them are raised each year Sheds of Pheasants and partridges Bedlam and chaos from ear to ear Disharmony everywhere simply no order Slatternly messy and … Continue reading