From All-Creatures.org

Poetry By Carl Porten

STOP KILLING US

We aren’t your trophies.
We aren’t your clothes,
an’ we aren’t your medicine
to heal human colds.

We own the same lease,
tended by hearts,
an’ it’s only your greed now
that tears us apart.

Living your dreams,
at the cost of our screams,
with traps an’ with bullets
you steal what you need.

Placing for pleasure,
for others to see,
behind bars of steal,
it’s a human disease.

Profits from pictures
capturing time,
you take happy memories,
while we cry inside.

Inside rooms with no windows
our nightmares hide
as you prod an’ you prick
to see what what’s inside.

Made to play games,
an’ history will tell...
that we never signed up
to play games in your hell.

Frozen an’ burn’t.
attached to wires,
cut up an’ scarred
an’ electrified.

That’s just mine,
theirs billions more minds,
in labs with humans
who get left behind.

Living room decor,
with mouth open wide.
There’s death on your floor
that you stole from his pride.

An’ really dear humans,
you stole the tusks,
of matriarch majesty,
for cigarette buts.

An’ cut off a leg
so from nasty cloud breaks,
you’ve a place for umbrellas,
that looks nice in your place.

We aren’t your trophies
We aren’t your clothes,
an’ we aren’t your medicine
to fix human colds.

Dear human your horrid,
you fell off the grid,
an’ fucked up an’ broke
everything that you did.

We used to be neighbours,
an’ love not in fear,
‘till pride and your gluttony
brought death to our door...

 

Poetry © 2022 Carl Porten

Go on to: The day sorrow evicted...
Return to Poetry By Carl Porten
Read more at Animal Rights Poetry