Dying on a fur farm
\nis a blessing in disguise
\nliving on a fur far
\nthose wearing
\nrealise
\nhell at lease 1000 times
\nworse than what we see
\nits dreadful what is happening
\nand that’s our reality<\/p>\n
but reality
\nthat’s far too graphic
\nto present on here
\nthey hide us in small cages and hutches
\nand the fear
\nexplodes in weeks of misery
\nin hours of abject pain
\nin the torture of our being
\nand most soon go insane<\/p>\n
the food is non existent
\nits maggots mostly, we
\nwhat you are expecting us to put up with
\nor see
\nreally wild souls
\ndegenerate in the space of a few days
\nthe boredom and the terror
\nits really a malaise<\/p>\n
somehow we must get out of here
\nsqueeze, push, leap, we must
\nfor death comes with his sickle
\nand his black cap full of dust
\nwe blindly hope for miracles
\nits a sort of curious hope
\nan honest we don’t really need
\nany more soft soap<\/p>\n
these vile immoral degenerates
\nsome call men, assume
\nthat because we are the voiceless
\nwe don’t need any room
\nforce us into rusty
\ndusty
\nfilthy cages where
\nwe must spend each waking hour
\nfacing your despair<\/p>\n
and for what?
\nwhat do you get?
\nout of such
\nblatant cruelty
\nis there a point
\ngo smoke a joint
\nsee if you can see
\na better way
\nthan what you give
\nus, at this present time
\nyou vagabonds you villian’s
\nyou are not worth one thin dime<\/p>\n
for who wears fur
\nthe arrogant pseudo rich brigade
\nmoney in the bank account
\nperhaps but good thoughts have strayed
\naway from what was fair and right
\ninto the darkness, where
\nskin and feather and a whole host
\nof animal products rare<\/p>\n
are soaked in blood and agony
\nin skin that’s ripped and torn
\nno creature was created
\nno creature clearly born
\nto take this vilest torture
\nas man un kind, sets to work
\nto strip our skin from our tender soul
\nyour excuse is wearing thin<\/p>\n
your fortune spent on depilatory
\ncould probably save us all
\nso you go through your own agony
\nremoving your own wool
\nonly then to slaughter us
\nand wear us all instead
\nensuring that we live in terror
\nuntil of course we’re dead<\/p>\n
the cat walk shows us skeletons
\nclad in skin and fur
\ndesigners, and diners
\ncompassionate they never were
\nthey were born with a infection
\nof money at all cost
\nand so they grab our external skin
\nwhich then of course we’ve lost<\/p>\n
and of they go a striding
\nproudly down the street
\nget those camera’clicking
\nlife now is complete
\nclad in preserved animals
\nscraped of blood and gore
\nimpregnated with chemicals
\nso they last for evermore<\/p>\n
and some of us we get so weak
\nwe just lay down and die
\nfrozen to our cages sometimes
\nthat is where we lie
\nwhen its cold our fur grows
\ngrow thicker by the day
\nand thicker fur makes money
\nso that’s another way<\/p>\n
subjecting us to frost and snow
\na bounty for the boys
\nwho get a bigger margin
\nand of course, those joys
\nthe selfish sods why do they seek
\ncruelty to wear
\nand why do you let us suffer so
\nwhen in fact you are aware<\/p>\n
basically because you are shits
\nare numb skulls from the start
\nprofit kind of takes you over
\nconcrete’s up your heart
\nyour liver and your lungs
\nare working overtime to be
\nclearing out the bitterness and woe
\nexponentially<\/p>\n
e<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Dying on a fur farm is a blessing in disguise living on a fur far those wearing realise hell at lease 1000 times worse than what we see its dreadful what is happening and that’s our reality but reality that’s … Continue reading