Some things I cannot fathom
And leave me ill at ease
Why is serendipity not wisdom?
And bucolic not a disease?
Why can a man not serve two masters
But have so many mistresses?
What’s sarong about men in dresses
And women who become pastors?

Why don’t poets of our time
Feel the need to write in rhyme?
And who on earth holds the key
To decipher modern poetry?
Not me, it seems, at least when
it comes to the esoteric, the mystic,
the mythic, the oblique, 
the eccentric, the enigmatic,
or the downright cryptic
Just give me the magic, the quixotic, 
the melancholic, the tragic,
and, of course…
The beautifully poetic! 

But most of all it puzzles me
How on earth it comes to be
That we eat the lambs
But never kittens?
And why we love to eat our veal
In animal loving Britain?
Could it be just ignorance
Or simply cognitive dissonance
Whereby we milk the cows
But not the dogs
And eat the sheep
But not the dogs
And to turn things on their head
We walk the dogs
Whilst with the pigs we never tread?
But on one thing I know I’m right
Even if the change has just begun
The future’s bright
And the future’s vegan!

Source: http://forums.familyfriendpoems.com/topic.asp?TOPIC_ID=151401