The Butcher Crew.

I was 10yrs old when I wrote this. I'd just found out about the methods used for collecting seal fur. The beautiful, brilliant white coats of the pups is intended to keep then hidden on the ice whilst adults go off in search of food. The reason the poor creatures are bludgeoned to death is so that the fur remains undamaged. You get less money for a pelt with a bullet/knife hole in it! I wanted to tell the whole world what was happening to the little pups in order for the grown ups to put a stop to it. Then I found out that they already knew.


1. Chapter one.

Across the shifting icepacks
They saunter into view
With wooden sleigh and husky dogs
Come forth the butcher crew.

A hundred eyes are watching on
As the first begin to die
At the hands of legal murderers
With wooden clubs swung high.

Again. Again. They smash them down
Onto white, defenceless heads
I don't know how they sleep so calm
Once tucked inside their beds.

Awaiting for the morning, when
Again the sun will rise
And the ice soaks up the ebbing blood
As another seal-pup dies.
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