Chicken Nuggets

February 29, 2012
By Isabelle Jeng SILVER, Warren, New Jersey
Isabelle Jeng SILVER, Warren, New Jersey
5 articles 0 photos 0 comments

The coop reeks of death, of blood and decay,
remnants of twisted legs hide in the hay.
My sister’s wing is tossed across the room,
as my legs are strapped into my doom.
“Rip off the feathers – quickly”
How could anyone be so sickly?
Upside down and into the water I go,
and suddenly I feel it – an incredible blow.
Blind and immobile, my lungs burst
electrified water – that’s not the worst.
Futile struggles and tortured cries,
blood seeps out of the sockets of my eyes.
When he notices my twitching, he comes over to check,
And gives me a fatal wringing around the neck.
I am no longer an animal, I have met my fate,
I am simply the food on somebody’s plate.

The author's comments:
I wrote this poem after watching a horrifyingly gory video about the behind-the-scenes of a slaughterhouse in hopes of raising awareness of factory farm conditions.

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