an egg for an egg

a long long fast has the farm endured, silently watching the grass turn moor. hunger stricken, starving pigs, chicken cooping eating twigs. then they come, from afar, from the city in their cars: hoping-wishing for relax, they don't know they'll pay the tax. cause hunger wakes our deep desire: putting on our man's attire, claiming meat when meat is ours, watch as we, the farm, devour.