You may notice
I don't like to write poems
About the world we see
Because the world we see
Does not interest me
If it interests you
May I suggest you go for a walk
Outside in the air
And take your self far away from here
Where my words may seem somewhat queer
I fear you will find they are not about
An idyllic and nice earthly paradise

Landscapes inside my mind I find worthy of words
Internal curiosities appeal to me
Unlike species of birds, lakes, clouds and flowers
I am bored by birds, and bees, and trees

Sure there is sadness enough in the mind of a bird
To fill an ocean with the tears
From trillions of heart-wrenching words
But you would not want me to write about this, would you?
You would prefer a photoshop Disney job

You would prefer if I write about birds with innocent human minds
Cute as pie, flying by, in the sky
Not terrified ravenous hunters
Constant killers of all creatures a little smaller
Hundreds a day, every day, child's play

Or should I write of cuddly cats
Who ambush innocent birds hopping by
Silly birds who should have stayed in the sky
It's nothing to do with a need for food
But wanton bird abuse for cats' amusement

Our family is Dysfunctional
The truth of Mother Nature
Is not what we want poets to write about

Sean Hunt  Windermere