End of the Line

I’ll never escape the butchers’ shop.

I walked in one side,
Whole and alive,
In all the honest mess of me.

I trusted every goad that led
I nuzzled every hand that fed
In good faith I confessed to be

All I’ve been, all that was true,
I left no part hidden from view
But on the other side I couldn’t see

I succumbed to butchery.

Trapped and wrapped in dishonest packaging;
Just another product of merchantry.

Product never sees it coming.