Murderers

Their hands are red
From the lives
That must have bled
To keep them happy
And to keep them fed

Their thoughts are black
From murdering daily
Their little snack
Cost a head
They don't look back

Their hearts are grey
Lost of generosity
Of the color they
Once could have been
But it's a price they'll pay

Their blood is dirt
Unhealthy and ruined
They care not of hurt
They finish their meal
And look for dessert

Yes, if you didn't guess, this poem is about animal rights and not eating animals...