I hate to think of life as a game
But if you win
That means someone has to lose
If you eat a tomato
Chances are someone picked it for 15 cents a barrel
If you eat a fat burger
That means a cow had to suffer its entire life
Just for you.
And if they'd suffer right before your eyes
Would you lend a hand?
More likely than now.
Where suffering doesn't exist
Under the roof of your comfortable home
Or even inside of your flat television screen.
No, that kind of suffering is make believe,
And even if it were real
there is no way to stop it, is that right?
Because the objective of playing is to win,
and if you can't win, then why even try?
But I'm here to tell you that the objective of playing
is only to fight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem