"Oh dear pigeon, Why art thou green?"
Is it envy or jealousy?
Or rather a deformity?
I stared for a while
for it to answer mine.
Contemplating. Thinking deep.
For its existential need

It then sung,
a song unsung
which sounded like
"To hell with your question, woman.
I don't give a FLYING ****."

© TanyaC. 2015.