disgust stuck
to the roof of your mouth
the sickening churning
chum curdling in your guts
forming gross pain
starvation of the already
strained land we pluck
and pick dry until it bleeds
covered in patches and
quick fixes we give it nothing
to give back but
timid attempts at poison
eking out of surfaces
not designed to function
as weapons against
those who attempt
and fail to create then
to crate the creature
from the keeper without a
cage to escape the clutches
of jaws and claws
of a starving pride
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