Gestation

Look beyond the bars of my six by two world.

See me as a mother, a daughter, a girl.

Pregnant, imprisoned, unable to move;

Terror growing faster than the litter in my womb.

I will carry my young three months, three weeks, and three days;

I’ll never see my children, or life, outside of a cage.

My babies were bred to suffer horrifying fates.

So that heartless people will have unneeded bacon on their plates.

A victim of gluttony; this is my life, my misery, my sorrow.

This vicious industry will impregnate me again tomorrow.