Julius Glasthal

Rookie (8/26/90 / New Windsor, NY)

The Abattoir - Poem by Julius Glasthal

Inside the abattoir we reside
Hanging from the hooks they supplied
We don't realize the purpose
Will this be the last of the worst?
Chilled our bones, in the flesh remains shiver
Waiting to get sliced in cuts, waiting to be served for dinner
We remain alive for the last meal
$5.95 a pound was the deal
Beyond the cooler the cold we feel
Alone we seem before they crowd us with our bloody family
Decapitated we lie on the freezer floor
The ice cuts through the bone to the core
The marrow red, still to the day we are dead
Then after we rest, limbless
Still not packaged
To be served to the public
Uncooked, we spread the epidemic
The disease that won't see no end
Coded pestilence, the poison we spread through the system
Two year olds vomiting, parents not knowing what's wrong with them
They want to blame the manufacturer not knowing who started this first
The man was the one who blessed for the worst
For all of us
So as meant to be plant eaters we shall stand forward and straight
To do more than fight the irate
As meat eaters we stand a little bit more narrow
Because to much blood in the marrow
Our cells born from death and slaughter
They take our land and rape our daughters
So the last place we will live
The abattoir
No future will it give
Watch the crows soar
Over the blood they slit
Piece by piece the murder game
The winners to me all look the same
They tag us all but don't know our names
Alone I won't stand
You can do so much with more than two hands
But all with only one mind shall prevail
To escape the abattoir our own personal jails

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, July 23, 2006

Poem Edited: Wednesday, August 18, 2010


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