How Meet* the Meat!
How meek the meat that walks to slaughter
How meek the meat that walks to war
Its sacrifice is writ’ on water
Its blood a shroud o'er evermore
How meet the meek who send their lambs
To fight and die for bloodied rag
Like cattle march our sons and daughters
How meet the meek adore the flag
How meek the meat that walks to bleed
In savage factories of death
Carved and bled by man's machines
Cold steel shuts off its final breath
How meek the meat that walks to war
How meet the cavalcade of death
How meet the meat that walks to slaughter
How sad the soldiers' final breath
How Meet the Meek!
*Fit and proper (archaic).
You do not disappoint with this poem. A novel by Robin Cook changed my view of what we do to cattle. I didn't eat meat for months afterward! Weak stomach. As is, I never eat meat off a bone - haven't since I was forced to as a kid, over twenty years ago. It disgusts me. It seems so barbaric, like cannabalism. Anyways, your poem has renewed my view of war. I've always had great respect for soldiers. However, I know those in charge see them as numbers only. Cattle.... Sad. You make a valid, realistic point. Unique write. Love and Hugs,
Sheila