I am more than a genetically modified organism
That was constructed for scientific research.
I am more than just pretty colors and silly talking tricks
Caged upon this perch.
My body was created for a purpose
Other than your dinner plate.
Why must you kick and hit, scream and scold
Then lock me for hours in this lonely crate?
My soul cries out as I am forced to work
Beyond my strength and will.
Although I push with all my might,
You are only standing still.
I am more than just a breeding factory
Giving birth to endless brood.
Only for my children to be torn from me
And sold away as food.
How would you feel if someone cut away your hair
And turned it into a coat?
Only for a thoughtless soul
To parade around and gloat.
That overpriced purse you clutch
Was constructed from my skin.
For years I’ve been living in restrictive pain.
I’m starting to wear thin.
I’m more than your convenience
Your entertainment or nutrition.
I have feelings. I have desires.
I even have ambition.
© Shenita Etwaroo