They stand forlorn with hopeless eyes
In barren yards by fences hemmed,
Tormented by the heat and flies
Awaiting death, they stand condemned.

Farewell to grazing pastures fair,
No blades of grass grow here to browse.
The smell of blood pervades the air,
The odour of the slaughterhouse.

The rigours of the cattle-drive,
The fear-filled truck ride, tightly penned,
The fumes, the fight to stay alive,
Are over now – this is the end.

I sorrow for each patient beast
Though little difference it makes.
For they must die that men may feast
In lusty greed upon their steaks.

You lie there in the morning sun,
A bleeding, furry bundle.
Whilst all around, cars swiftly run
And semitrailers trundle.

A thousand times, in dark of night
You raced across this street
Defying Death with speedy flight
On swift, unerring feet.

You little knew each time you crossed
Your nine lives were diminished.
Last night your race with Death was lost,
Ninth life abruptly finished.