Stop yammering on about peace when you’re dining on
anything but.
As tears run through your veins and someone’s baby rots
In your gut.
Our bodies could’ve been vessels to carry peace and love.
Instead we made them graveyards when we fried and ate
The dove.
Need them? We don’t need them, Still you fucking eat them.
Not attacking nature or ones doing it to survive.
But the ones foolish enough to say I need cheese
to stay alive.
We’re giving up nothing. It was never ours to take
To that down in your pillow or their child on your plate.
Need them? We don’t need them, Still you fucking eat them.
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