“Veeeegan” they say with bitter distaste
It’s not a point of pride or possible discussion to influence behavioural change
It’s a belief put into practice but remains silent until confused fingers point at your lunch
Even then requiring the bare minimum of explanation
It’s my impassioned, youthful voice aching my mother’s head as she orders a BLT
Smiling through the jokes while knowing they too cringe at the sight of slaughterhouse videos
Feeling weary because people agree – no animal deserves that
But watching their eyes roll at any reminder of their omelette’s origins
Vegan means living in an ideological world that constantly judges, misunderstands, belittles “Vegan” in the air means persecution to the rest
Admitting through snide comments they know there is another path
But that path is “restricting”
“What about my morning muffin?”
Not freeing
“New muffin, less brutality”
Named me Scout because learning how to be a good person is life’s most important lesson
But apparently putting yourself in others’ shoes has its genetic limits
Realizing that a strong moral compass is only recognized when it relates to others sense of morality
A hormonal teenage boy paying $5 for a girl not to kiss him is bravery
Abstaining from exploitation a nuisance
It’s so easy to hide behind the arousing smells, the masked flavours, the new names
But choosing an ice cream cone at the dairy looks different than it always used to
In rocky road, I see the forced implantation
Needles and hands in action without consent
In cookie dough crunch
A cow wailing from the separation of her calf
In mint chocolate chip
The anxiety and fear of a creature not permitted to turn around or sit
Roast beef on the table now a sadistic, twisted funeral of a carcass no one recognizes
A glass of milk – a life I’ve stolen
These remnants in so much we consume
Once a body pleading to survive
All life the same
In their eyes I see us, their pain unwarranted
Friends enraged on social media about the Yulin dog meat festival while warming a chicken pot pie for dinner
Labelling difference where there is none
Dividing arbitrary categories of right and wrong so nothing must change
Our common sense is deemed compassion
Such compassion propaganda or sentimentality
“I could never stop” incites a deep sigh of frustration
The system convincing its subjects they have no free will to resist
But the pain persists
At the end of a long day we deserve that burger and chocolate shake, but do they?
Poem Written by Miranda S Eisen
