Are we
Sheep
To be herded in lines
Sheared of all that makes us valuable
Powerless

Legs weak and pink
We hold ourselves as tall as we can
Transfigured to be the same as everyone else
Unsatisfied

Bleating feebly from hoarse throats
Brushing up against each other desperately
Tufts of hair shooting from thin bodies
Alone

Led off to slaughter
*Freed