No Risen Sun

Thu, 07/04/2013 - 15:05 -- tweb137

Location

Pinches and medicine,

Needles and a poke.

This just has to be a painful joke.

Their squirms are minimal,

Their cries are silent,

Allowing the ‘caretakers’ to be violent.

The risen sun brings no delight,

The risen media sheds no light,

So helpless animals now shiver in fright.

Medicine, hair or makeup companies,

Do they care about animals’ invisible tears?

Do we really need a new type of hairspray?

A scientist prepares a needle,

One that’ll shoot through a mice’s feet.

The mouse lies still and admits defeat.

Life as a test animal

Is no fun.

It cannot be over with a risen sun.

Animal testing cannot be overcome with a risen sun.

It needs a bit more than a single risen hand.

It needs a risen world.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741