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Dec 2011
I sit, legs crossed, hands at my side,
Breathing, staring at the sky.
A tear escapes, rolls down my cheek,
They wipe it away, tears are weak.
They paint a smile on my face,
Hurry, fast, it’s all a race.
Final touches, fix my hair,
Knife and fork, it’s time to share.

They hoist me up, upon the plate,
Spread my arms and spread my legs.
Carry me up above their heads,
And place me next to the butters and breads.
The men devour me with their eyes,
I scream, my body can tell no lies.
And as I scream, my voice - it shouts,
My private thoughts, my fears, my doubts.

They gag me, tie me up in wire,
Throw me, throw me in the fire.
And as my clothing, and my skin,
Are peeled away, I see; they win.

I watch them feast from high above,
It was never me, it is the meat they love.
They toss my bones to the dogs below,
And prepare themselves for the second show.
Sarah Williams
Written by
Sarah Williams
803
   Jennifer Freya
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