J.H. DickinsonAnimal Rights Poetry By J.H. Dickinson From All-Creatures.org


In the eyes of what I see
I am watching you
Watching me.

Metal clad trailer, nose poked, bleats.
Hot breath, packed bodies,
Normality, to all but me.

I grip my fists, tight lipped.
Wanting to tear at metal seams,
Open, ripped.

Challenge the abandonment,
Pause of thumping heart.
Where do you go little sheep?
To the slaughterhouse?
Or a farm?

For a temporary reprieve,
Happy falsehood,
Stay of execution, dream.

How can I help you?
Evolve this life of pain.
What can I do? -
But fight such human shame.

In the eyes of what I see
I must react, I must do.
You are watching me
Watching you.

sheep transport
Photo by J.H. Dickinson - I wrote this poem in response to a livestock trailer waiting in the street outside of my home (Northumberland, UK). The driver joked and laughed with other people passing by - and all I could think of, was the oblivious attitute of everyone standing there, despite the sheep pressing their noses through the gaps and bleating. I wondered about their fate? Feeling jarred, yet again, at the sad and ignorant capacity of human beings.

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