What is left of it is merely meat,
cut up for my dogs to eat,
a little heart that beat so fast, so slow,
made the lamb live and grow,
let it run and play on fields of green,
discover a world it has never seen,
sleeping in the sun, belly full
of mom's milk and luscious grass -
Now, cruel hands push it suddenly,
into a cold place of silent screams,
and the smell of death,
as he comes sudden and fast
shuts down this little innocent heart,
while it races to its very last beat,
terrified,
mom, the green fields vanish fast,
like the mother's soft voice calling,
sounds of the waiting angles laughing.

Sydney Krivenko 2009
All rights reserved