Genocide, Greed and Unemployment
They planted the seed,
they scattered the word,
the flock was
delivered, the shepherded herd
was once from above,
from the sign of the dove
Twas nothing but shock,
from the cry of the cock
They watered the crop,
they scribed the script
the fish had arrived,
the scales were tipped
who knew the tale, of
how they would fail
Twas a heart wrenching
sigh, that delivered the sty
They fertilised the
living, to deliver the crop
the bread was moulded,
the penny yet to drop
the mutton was
prepared, no souls would be spared
Twas but a mornings
work, not to go berserk
They harvested the
proceeds, to reap the rewards
the wine was warmed,
the ceremony of awards
the knives sharpened,
the spirits had darkened
Twas the timing of the
Cull, that controlled the null
They came to clean up,
hard work from the sun
the chop had to come,
as the pigs had the gun
the numbers they had,
the carriages so sad
Twas the ones who knew
how, who bled the cow
They prepared the
feast, they came from far and wide
the tables were full,
rooms crammed side to side
the owners generosity,
lured all for curiosity
Twas nothing to see,
but a false sense of glee
They closed the doors
tight, celebrations of delight
for the food was
steaming, and the eyes a streaming
all products within,
the harvest a success
Twas not just the crop,
that we had to say God bless
They muffled the cock,
to hide the clock
for the next day was
not coming, for banging and running
the tale was now known,
that it was the owners who own
and the workers who
work, are nothing but bone.
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