Oh Little Cattle Poem by Clyde Cruz

take them from farms far away and leave innocence intact.
the clash of knives and steel, skins, muscles, and organs be packed.
cattle treads onward, blood, feces, and fouls.
march on, march on, this be the slaughterhouse.


stage set for reckoning, no child nor the weak of heart.
men, women, what difference? we slave for crumbs on cart.
yet on crumbs the ants of us build cities out of wasteland.
psyche of men, oh rise, oh rise, what hell it can withstand.


storms, deserts, the frozen horizons, we are the inhabitants of hell.
the sparks of men that light and warms the world, to the devil we do not sell.
meadow, hell, or the butcher's house, what difference? a hope in every battle.
march on, march on, head up upon the sky and fortify, oh little cattle.