Life,

you have it,

I have it,

we all have it.

This young bird doesn’t,

it is lying here

with the other fruits and vegetables. People walk by

without a notice,

just a stick in the fire,

a brick in a wall,

it is these small things

that make the big things.

Life,

you don’t think about it until

it’s gone.

Gone,

disappeared into thin air just so you can see it leave. Then death,

it will come to everyone, me,

you,

all of us.

This bird,

a king of the sky,

is here

dead.

A bird in the sky,

flying effortlessly

though the cloud.

You wonder how something so beautiful, can be here,

dead,

killed by monsters,

us,

we are those monsters,

creatures.

Every time you eat a chickenstrip, do you see a chicken?

Right there,

in front of you,

an innocent animal.

No,

you see food,

take one look

and that’s it.

Grease dripping down your face,

your fingers,

more and more,

until

it’s gone.

All gone.

The bird,

the cows, pigs, goats, chickens

all gone.

We destroy their homes to make room for ours. Are we that important?

Do our lives count more than theirs?

No,

but to us they do,

so we think,

“What harm can come from killing all those pigs?” Well,

a lot,

the world will change.

People make jokes like:

“Don’t like change? Leave it here.”

But that won’t hide the truth.

Nothing will.