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A plastic bottle Sits discarded at The foot of a Recycling bin. A city bird, Mistaking it for Some kind of Strange fruit, or Perhaps a meal Fit for a king Descends, grasps it With pincer'd claws, Then carries it to Her nest, and sits For five minutes, Watching, confused, As her hatchlings Gnaw at the label. In bright red letters: 'Taste The Feeling.'
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Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 1:25 PM UTC
Mother
A plastic bottle Sits discarded at The foot of a Recycling bin. A city bird, Mistaking it for Some kind of Strange fruit, or Perhaps a meal Fit for a king Descends, grasps it With pincer'd claws, Then carries it to Her nest, and sits For five minutes, Watching, confused, As her hatchlings Gnaw at the label. In bright red letters: 'Taste The Feeling.'
A poem about responsibility. #23 in the Distant Dystopia anthology. © Lewis Hyden, 2018
LewisHyden
Written by
18/M/London, UK
Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 1:25 PM UTC
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