Writing: The Runt of Fridaythorpe Farm

by Beauchamp Art

Runt of
No litter
Feast for ferals
Discarded, disregarded
Surplus to
Unrequired
Mean nothing
Still squealing
Very much a
Wary of such
Seemingly cruel
Waste
Full of potential
Swill to roll in
Growing fat to be fed uponThe inevitable arrives early
Want not
Strange little life
Funny young thing
Pink and partly devoured
Tossed outcast into the can
(What curious compost)
Wouldn’t have lasted
So much meat is so much to eat
Better a brief agony
Then a prolonged deception
You shall be fed upon
This day or next
Whether it is crows or cats or cooks that circle

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