As Memórias Do Amanhã Longínquo

Pig Slaughter

Some have names

And are treated

Like pets, big pets,

Closed in some shitty hole.

If they could have it,

Some of them would

Have hope,

Some of them would

Believe.

But there is tradition,

And tradition tells

How things were,

How things should

And will be.

Some had names,

Some had a beating

Heart,

Now drained from blood,

On a wooden bench

In a cold winter morning

With all this strangers,

All this friends,

Watching it dying.

Love is a pig getting fat

For slaughter.

B.