Poison in My Food

I tell you a truth about me.
I eat.

I am lacking energy.
So I eat.
I need my children to eat.
So I eat.

But I feel afraid.
I feel offended.
I am insulted by food.
I am a result of food.
Food is what birthed me.
Food is what birthed my ancestors.
Yet I worry.
I worry so much when I eat.

I do not understand.
We eat, yet we still die.
We eat, yet we still kill
so that we could forever eat.
I wonder why we are not being eaten.
Are we really the top of the food chain?
What are we?
Eaters of life?

Beasts have claws, we have bloody fingers.
They maul to eat, we eat to maul.
Birds have wings, we have hunched backs.
They fly to avoid our bullets, we fire bullets so we could fly.
Fishes have fins, we have thieves' legs.
They live as united schools, we live as greedy fools.
It is ironic that we deserve the right to eat
those which are capable of impossible feats.

I wonder,
if the food we eat,
before it died,
were like us, being able to 'rationalize',
I wonder,
would there be poison in my food?