Skin we Wear

Let’s mull a cow,

Their organ, sometimes with spots,

They are black and white

Or brown, cream, casing.

 

The texture of their skin

We wear on our feet, stylish,

I do it to, Woman with her handbag

His money is wrapped within.

 

Have you packed the cow?

In a ground womb, after

You removed the milk skin on top,

To say goodbye, in rest amongst us.

 

This is our disaster; we do not take care,

The sinning it is to skin us

Be branded with murder, immoral.

Yet it is humane, to skin a cow.