Broken...shattered? No...Ripped out!
This is how an orange feels.
We cut into its flesh,
Rip it's guts from its body
The blood drips down our chins,
Splashes onto plates.
Then all evidence is disposed of.
The skin goes in the trash,
And the blood goes down the drain.
Millions of oranges are murdered every day.
End the violence,
Eat bacon.
YOU ARE READING
The World According to Dini.
PoetryA collection of poems to give readers a picture of life in Diniville