Did you hear of the chicken
Who wanted to be a duck?
You have to admit that the chicken
Had a great deal of pluck.
 
Scrutinizing her duck friends,
She sought out the best model,
But despite weeks of practice,
She still couldn’t waddle.
 
“This clucking,” she said, “won’t cut it.
I need to learn how to quack.”
But the only sounds she emitted
Were still not a “quack” but a “clack.”
 
“I prefer to eat duck food,”
She boasted, and with that
She gobbled up all she could
And ended up getting too fat.
 
“Ducks are good at flying,
So it makes perfect sense
For me to try it,” she said—
Barely reaching the fence.
 
“That’s it!” she finally exclaimed.
“For swimming ducks are renowned.”
She dashed into the lake,
Flapped her wings, and drowned.
 
The ducks sighed in sadness.
Poor chicken—she just couldn’t see
THAT THINGS AREN’T NECESSARILY
ALL THEY’RE QUACKED UP TO BE.

-by Bob B