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Bridget Bird Mar 2011
There once was a girl named mary

Who had a pet canary

Locked in a cage

The bird filled with rage

And planned to ****** dear mary.

He picked the lock with his beak

One autumn eve so bleak

And made his escape

Mary’s door left agape

To her bedside he would sneak.

His eyes held a sinister gleam

And mary let out a blood-curdling scream

As he pecked at her eyes

And scratched at her thighs

Mary prayed it was all a bad dream.

After the vicious attack

Mary fell flat on her back

On the hardwood floor

Her pulse was no more

The canary flew away and never looked back.
Bridget Bird Apr 2013
the snow is melting
along with my better judgment
smoke ceases to emerge from chimneys
but still streams out my mouth
like it has for the past 3 years

spring is an in-between season
and i am an in-between human
ice melts off my exterior
as rain pelts my brain
only to freeze again
in the chill of night air.

— The End —