Meat is Meat

Is it not? (Possible twist: the real victim is not the butcher, but a relative/family member.)

He is covered in blood from dusk till dawn,

No not me, but my fellow brethren, I know, what a yawn.

He wears not the blood of humans,

And yet no one questions him.

 

You call me a killer, and yet him a man.

Blood coursed through both our veins,

And we both reek of it.

With a hearty laugh, he lives.

 

Many know him for his skill,

As many know I, for mine.

The taste of copper is not new to us,

And neither is the smell.

 

Maybe I’ll pay a visit to my dear brethren,

For we both share similar qualities.

I wonder whose blood he’ll be covered in,

When you find him. Perhaps it’ll be his own.

 

Author's Note

For a Contest.

Reviews

[NA]

This is excellent! You nailed it...good luck hun :)

[Soma-ko]

I'll take that luck with me, thank you. :)

[Malark]

I enjoyed the write, I hope you place in your contest! The final lines were the most amusing, and the most moving from a readers end.

[Soma-ko]

Thank you, the poem is supposed to be a note from a killer to the police, so I tried to put a bit of mystery, while indirectly threatening them. Glad you enjoyed it.