Empathy Poem by Steve Howard
Empathy
The meat is quite juicy,
tender and pink.
You stuff it on down,
there's no need to think.
Served up with a garnish,
such a fine meal.
It's only just lunch,
if you don't hear it squeal.
How quick we ignore,
refuse and deny,
if we don't see a face,
if we don't hear them cry.
It's not our problem.
There's no need to feel,
if we don't see them fall,
and go under the wheel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/14/2024 7:38:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
