In olden days a metal rod was bent
to form a letter or familiar shape
they seared upon a beast to represent
their ownership; they'd watch the wisps escape
as dull red iron marred reluctant flesh
and smirk, their domination well assured,
for as new calves were marked they had their fresh
additions to an ever growing herd.
Today they're much more clever with control
proffering chains the tame perceive as chic
because they trust the rancher's caring eyes;
but once you buy the brightly packaged lies
the smell of burning meat will surely reek
as they lay claim to your eternal soul.
No comments:
Post a Comment