Moving through the night, feigning sleep,
eyes closed mind open to the possibilities
that all we thought was known, is now not true.

That we are being cared for too, instead why
is a balding wolf chewing at my pain in the neck.

The pig is a snake and has a forked tongue,
fattens you with comfort as long as you like
blood tipped sharp barbed wire, ***** coated
to guarantee you catch something, even if it is
too late, to recognize the calamity.

Don't blame the pig, "all animals are created equal
but some animals are more equal than others"

So on the morrow we may become as unglued as
what we open, hopin' for a merciful gated pasture
rather than a lamb for the slaughter as fast as
                                                 it can be manufactured.  

Oh sorry to disturb you,
I know you don't understand,
I mustn't either as then I would
not need poetry...to lie with me
and dry my tears each one wet
with fear that I torture myself,
sadly I know already that I am
right, but I am not up for
this
fight.

I will lose...no honour in this, against my beliefs,
my grief a failure will erode my will to breath,
so sorry go about your night or day, I don't
mean to disturb, let me fester, let me rot,
                you all are, all I got Hello, goodbye.