Animal Farm / Dinner Time.

Animal Farm / Dinner Time.
Its a hoot living hear the Farmer feeds us quite well
Its a little cramped but what can you expect
OK so we cant walk about,
We just sit and lay eggs
Well at least he feeds us,
Sometimes at least
And if your really quick you can get your fill
I'm glad I'm a Chicken and not a pig!
There lives are a lot worse than ours!
I can see the sty if I stretch a little
They are forced to eat there own Shit!
And about every six month's there Murdered
I'm glad I'm not a pig!
 Moo!
It's a Grand old life hear on the farm,
Eating Grass all day, and straw in the winter barn,
The only part I don't like is that the Farmer Forces Milk from my udders that hurts! A little sometimes,
I've got blisters and sores,
Where fly's land on me,
And we are stuck out in all types of weathers
Well at least we can have a bit of,
‘How’s your father’
With Bully,
Every three to four months,
That’s fun!
I am bloody glad I'm a Cow and not a sheep;
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Bar! bar! bar!
Its cool hear, and were all young and fit,
No old sheep to boss us around,
Only that daft old dog!
But sometimes he bites our legs,
I wonder where the farmer takes the two year olds?
I bet they have gone to an old sheep’s home!
What I don't like is,
When they shave off our wool
It's cold!
We huddle together and freeze our tits off,
But all things considered,
Its a good life!
Or so the Farmer tells us.
‘2007’
By
The Warrior Poet
in
England

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