The middling classes are fuming with tar,
While in Britain and Deutschland the lads fill the bars,
Their livers eroding, like pickles in jars.
Yet while the white sticks of cancer are slighted,
And the perils of piss-ups jaundice the plighted,
The slaughter of steak, and those who bite it,
Remains disregarded as the dying ones fight it.
On a packet of cigarettes it is plain to see
The effect on our lungs of cloudy nicotine,
But chowing down mounds of saturated meat
Still seems to many to represent a treat.
It's socially normal to chastise those who smoke,
A tut and a head shake may accompany a toke.
The hypocrites mutter as the lads down a potion,
While they gleefully swill down their fat-laden portions.
With the onset of expanding waistlines worldwide,
As the ravaging effects of obesity reside,
It is folly that we still strip meat from the hide,
An appetite of no more than untimely demise.
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