You think I have no purpose,
I’m just food for your plate.
I hope this facebook shows you,
Food was not my intended fate.
The world is waking up now,
I hope you will wake up too.
Yes, I am only one chicken,
But you need to wear my shoe.
I hope you learn from me now,
That happy meals and finger lickin’
Do not portray the true reality,
And cruelty toward the chicken.
I don’t deserve to die by a child’s hands,
And my life is not your teaching tool.
I deserve to live as a chicken should,
This “project” does not belong in school.
I hope to change this indifference,
Though I know it won’t change for some.
But my death was not a needed event
To “Know Where Your Food Comes From.”
You wanted us to wear for you
An “identification” head-stamp.
And live within the confines
Of your concentration camp.
When you began to plan this “project,”
Did you ever stop and ponder
That children and chickens would bond,
And their hearts would only grow fonder?
You think that my short lifespan
Makes for a fair debate.
You knew I was genetically modified.
Why did you reenact the hate?
So you think death is a skill
That a child needs to know?
You used me in your classroom,
And let the children watch me grow.
The weekend before the slaughter,
We would like to have been fed.
But you were not the hungry one,
We were just food, you said.
I think you could have taught better,
Taught lessons more humane.
But instead you only contributed
To sadness, death and pain.
I’m asking that you learn from me now,
And read the messages I’ve read from some.
I think it’s time to turn tables on you,
Do you “know where YOUR food comes from?”
You say it was all for “attention.”
I hope that makes you feel better.
But we are seeking change,
And we’ll do that … letter by letter.
You’d like this all to come to a stop,
You’d like the quiet and silence.
But don’t you see? If I do that,
I’m succumbing to the violence.
Whitney believed she had no choice.
She had to grab me and run.
So you sacrificed every chicken,
Every single chicken—but one.
So you think I’m just one chicken,
One less meal on your plate.
But my purpose now is greater,
And that’s a much better fate.
My final message is a gift to the world,
Please open up your eyes.
See finger lickin’ for what it really is,
One giant pack of lies.