The turkeys are not thankful for Thanksgiving;
pigs also are ungrateful for the day.
Quite selfishly they'd rather go on living
than serve as cold cuts or a meat pâté.
They'd just as soon not lie at center table,
surrounded by potatoes, rolls, and corn;
they'd make a break for home if they were able,
back to the pen or nest where each was born.
It's not that they dislike all celebrations--
ice cream and cakes and party hats are nice;
but they can't approve their own eviscerations,
nor willingly lie on deathbeds of rice.
For you it's ham and roast bird packed with stuffing;
for them, a date with that Eternal Nothing.
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