(original poetry by me)

The Pig

I give my liberty as sacrifice-

I give my time, my happiness, my choice

To feed a pig which I've been told is hungry:

Which I've been told will grant me all my joys.

With every sacrifice I'm promised

That my success, my time to rest is soon.

If I just work some extra hours

I, too, can lick the silver spoon.

But every slice I carve out from my spirit

To reach a future I was always sold

I feel no closer to salvation-

No closer to my pot of gold.

In my despair, I cling to this religion:

With painful labour I must tie the knot.

In hopes a life spend cold and hungry

Will one day guarantee a spot-

Beyond the grave, a golden ticket,

Reserved in paradise foretold...

A shameful dream where I have leisure,

Where I have time to voice my thought.

------

Years pass, yet I remember nothing.

My youth is gone. I sit in the same cell,

Same desk, same plasma screen, same pen,

Same sheets to fill out yet again..

But something shifts.

I look and suddenly I see:

That I've been conned into accepting hell,

That what I pray for in their heaven,

The pigs gorge on right here on Earth.

Greased, fattened and rejoiced

With our sacrifice,

our freedom,

and our worth.