I've seen the world put into a cage.
With all the pens locked...
And controlled by a keeper so jaded...
To speak would lure red dots...
From the handlers that surround them...

The creatures look human in form...
But they act like beasts...
Afraid of the keeper's glaring scorn...
Feeding them slop for feasts...
The keeper and handlers eat better than they do...

When one dies, they are replaced...
Because the handlers see expendable resources...
To be cut and erased...
From all possible taken courses...
They use words for bars, and hatred for walls...

To look upon them makes me sick...
They make it hard to tolerate them...
Nothing in their minds seem to stick...
They have been cut from a rotten stem...
I only hope it gets better...
© The Wolf of Poetry Forest