Passing through the abattoir
I was greeted by five grunting swine,
Eyes wide and friendly snorts
Begged me to befriend them.
I patted each on his nose
And let them snuffle in my sleeve.
I scratched their necks and tickled their ears,
Then I went – ignoring their fears.
When I returned some hours later
I was greeted by the sickening stench of blood.
The pen was desolate and I stood alone,
But for their stirring souls.
And full to the brim in a bin nearby
There were five hogs’ heads,
Eyes wide and staring blankly
Begging me to save them.
This story really happened to someone I know. I was moved enough to turn it into a poem, about 12 years ago.