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.