Venting

A Metaphor

I want meat, not broth
To feel like some wasteful sloth;
To taste the grizzle of each new day,
Gnashing between my teeth.
I want the spice of life to take,
Not just the crumbs thrown down to me
On the cold, hard floor.
I’m tired of taking the scraps
That happen to fall at my feet,
But, can’t yet grasp the proteinases
Meat swinging just above my head.
Red meat given freely to the wealthy,
Lazy vermin that think that it’s their due.
Red meat stolen from the poor or infirm
By the crafty and cunning wolves in sheep’s clothing.
Red meat that should be allowed
To everyone who wants a taste,
Who wants and strives to enjoy
The succulence and strength it gives to the world.