Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday
Saturday
My father brings vegetables and rice.
My mother prepares vegetables and rice.
I and my sister help my parents.
We happily share our vegetable meal.
Life is respected and protected in my Indian home.
No glorification of violence
No glorification of blood
No glorification of torture
There is no glorification of cruelty in my home.
There is no hypocritical way of life at my home.
Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday
Saturday
Tens of millions of years of my life
Life is measurable in their home.
They love me and eat me.
They have a voice for life.
It is an ironic way of voice.
They have cats and dogs.
They love me so much.
They eat me so much.
They go to supermarkets and hotels.
They buy and order my chuck, brisket, shank, rib, plate, loaf, short loaf, flank, round, legs, chops, shoulders, ribs, belly, bacon, sausages, and hams.
I became a
West Country beef,
Welsh black cattle,
Welsh mountain sheep,
Shetland lamb,
Welsh beef,
Scotch lamb,
Welsh lamb,
Mountain Hare,
Scotch beef,
Angus beef,
Faggots,
Coronation Chicken,
Toad in the Hole,
Roast Beef,
Shepherd\'s Pie,
Chicken Tikka Masala,
Beef Wellington,
Sunday Roast,
Pedigree Welsh Pork,
Mackerel Bap,
Skate Fish and Chips,
Pollock Fish and Chips,
Plaice Fish and Chips,
Jellied Eels,
Haddock Fish and Chips,
Cod Fish and Chips
Fish and chips, etc.
Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday
Saturday
They go to campaigns.
They hail and voice:
Palestine lives matter.
Hamas lives matter.
Children\'s lives matter.
Black lives matter.
Queer lives matter.
Labor lives matter.
Liberal lives matter.
Muslim lives matter.
Asylum lives matter.
Refugee lives matter.
Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday
Saturday
They go to campaigns.
They hail and voice:
Islamophobia
Homophobia
Queer phobia
Blackophobia
No fortresses in Europe
No boundaries in America
No Walls in Canada
Asylum is a human right.
Namaz is a government duty.
Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday
Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday
Saturday
There is no respect for life.
There is a glorification of violence.
Glorification of my blood and flash
Beautifying my dish in their poems
Glorifying my taste
They hail their second gender for my delicious taste.
Cheering and partying with my life after peace and ceasefire talks
They are hailing my October 7 carnage.
They are hailing my son’s July 4 homicide.
They are hailing me every moment.