This is a story not many may want to read.
That's OK. It still needed to be written.
Do you see me?
If you could see me as who I am
I know this is not what you’d do.
But they hide me away
keep quiet my screams
so you won’t know the truth.
You won’t know I’m a heart and soul
or fear for that blood on your plate.
I knew how to love.
I learned to be scared.
I tried to run away.
….tried to run, with nowhere to go
because we cannot save ourselves.
Only you can do that
and we ask and we wait
but still nobody helps.
Still nobody ever stands firm
and demands our anguish must end.
So we live long enough
to fatten us up
and then we are put to our deaths.
We have to die to fill up your plates
but at least our begging is done.
Do you taste our pain
in every bite
think of what you have won?
What do you see at the end of the fork?
There’s more there than just some meat.
There’s a life that was hard.
We were tortured for food.
Do you see? Do you see me?