For me to practice vegetarianism,
You’re the collateral meat.
If I were to display literacy,
You’re my sheet.
The scaffolding to my shelter,
I fashion my homes out of you,
On the places you had yours.
For I never really took you seriously.
Maybe you could’ve been mobile,
With pangs or claws,
Too bad you’re turned up a standing duck,
Green and tall.
But then if you were,
You’d be tamed, petted or poached.
Just your consumption would’ve lost its holy sheen,
With your carcass oozing red and not green.
Like in the world of Tolkien,
Maybe you must’ve learned to speak.
To intimidate and hit back,
Debate and converse.
Then I would’ve warred,
When words lost sanctity, peace lost patience.
For nothing covers the paucity of dignity,
Like destruction does, you see.
I do it all the time,
The right becoming the whim of the last man standing.
But then what else would I consume,
The condescended plant eater;
The lesser evil of the two,
I know it is not fair,
But nothing ever that bent before Darwin’s delusion is.