As you barbarically rip the skin from my back
No thought given to my pain
I cringe and howl in absolute agony,
As your treatment is anything but humane.
My coat was intended to keep me warm and dry
Yet it's stolen for your selfish appearance.
Cut and pieced into clothing and accessories
Stamped with a price tag, eventually thrown into clearance.
How would your feel if your own human skin
Was violently torn from your frame?
Squandered for profits, looks, and prestige.
Who cares? You’re one and the same.
That knife cuts much deeper
Than my external flesh, fur, and skin.
The lack of compassion or thought
Cuts to the core, where my soul begins.
Although the physical pain is unbearable
It is minimal, you see
Compared to the torture, the heartache and anguish
Of a life lacking purpose and quality.
© Shenita Etwaroo