We are the living
graves of murdered beasts,
Slaughtered to satisfy our appetites.
We never pause to wonder at our feasts,
If animals, like men, can possibly have rights.
We pray on Sundays that we may have light,
To guide our footsteps on the path we tread.
We’re sick of war, we do not want to fight-
of it now fills our hearts with dread,
And yet - we
gorge ourselves upon the dead.
crows, we live and feed on meat,
the suffering and pain
We cause by doing so, if thus we treat
Defenceless animals for sport or gain,
How can we hope in this world to attain
The PEACE we say we are so anxious for.
We pray for it, o’er hecatombs of slain,
To God, while
outraging the moral law
Thus cruelty begets its offspring - WAR
people say 'We mustn't be sentimental,' you can take it they are about to do
something cruel. And if they add 'We must be realistic,' they mean they are
going to make money out of it. Brigid Brophy
Accepting and celebrating our tyranny over animals is so
wrong, so terribly wrong.
Don’t be indifferent, don’t be silent. Make some noise,
please! Help stop the animal holocaust.
2012 Meat Is the New Tobacco