Veal tastes of the tears too soon,
but so delicious and tender.
But the little cows moo.
trapped for taste, marked for doom,
victims of voracious vendings,
veal tastes of tears too soon.
In dank boxes, mooing,
aching voices treated with indifference,
But the little cows moo.
Stolen for fate, in the stench of the room,
they cry for their mothers.
veal tastes of tears too soon.
Vicious connoisseurs,
tear infant flesh with rounded teeth,
But the little cows moo.
for this meal once called a calf too,
the saltiness we can ignore,
But the little cows moo,
and veal tastes of tears too soon.
A contest entry
- The Letter "V" by deadcolor dreams.
600 points, ended March 15, 2007, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I'm sorry to say this already ended.
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