The meat poem

We eat the meat

Of those we cheat

Of lives that are not ours

We cook their flesh

To eat at mess

And pass on through our bowels

We ask them not

To share themselves

We care not how they feel

We name them not Bob Sue or George

Instead just fowl or veal

We care not for their love or fears

Would not consider them our peers

Their only animals you see

But after all,

So too are we?