Hidden behind closed doors
Protected by federal laws
Vile mankind is at work
This aint your sons train set
Or your daughters pet
That’s going around
Trapped in a steal vest
This is the Draize test
Done in the name of vanity
Round and round
They make no sound
Riding the train
You’ll hear no screams or cries
But watch their pink eyes
Flash with fear
When the train stops
In go the eyes drops
That will burn their sight away
White rabbits riding the train
White rabbits writhing in pain
But never making a sound
No humanity
Just vulgarity
Of the sickest kind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I could hear this very train from two years away..) it(s..that loud...good write..