Slaughter Time Poem by Dorsey Baker
Slaughter Time
Pig walking around
nervously
in the pen
no escape its a prison
its a very dirty place
slop covers the ground
dirty feet
smelly arena
the weapon is pointed
aimed at the target
the shot is fired
the blood starts to run
nowhere to go!
its slaughter time
Monday, March 25, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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5/4/2024 8:53:59 AM # 1.0.0.1119
