The stench of death

As the garbage lies open

The reeking guts fill the bag

The counter covered in blood

As the red as the rose glistening in the rain

Littered in feathers, the surface

Sticky and wet.

The heart has gone still

As the heat of life fades

The blood on my hands

Washed away clean

A butcher I am

Many people repulsed

A dirty job many people ignore