Mar 2010
You come in the light and steal our young, while they are in their silent slumber.
I have seen you break their skin asunder, with glee displaying their insides for your greedy eyes to see.
You take in the name of hunger and leave us wanton, while they are in their silent slumber.
I have seen you in all of your malignancy, for it’s your stomach our children now encumber.
You leave in the night and let us protect what is left; all the while they are in their silent slumber.
I have seen you and others, our young only help to swell your number.
Said the duck to the human.
I have seen you break their skin asunder, with glee displaying their insides for your greedy eyes to see.
You take in the name of hunger and leave us wanton, while they are in their silent slumber.
I have seen you in all of your malignancy, for it’s your stomach our children now encumber.
You leave in the night and let us protect what is left; all the while they are in their silent slumber.
I have seen you and others, our young only help to swell your number.
Said the duck to the human.
(Side Note: No I don't happen to be a bleeding heart vegetarian nor do I personally have a problem with your choice to eat or not to eat meat. This poem comes, very simply from my parents' recent slaughter of excess mallards, the removal of rather large eggs from nests and the generally cheerful nature the above was accomplished in.)
(P.S. Any maliciousness I have unintentionally imbued into the characters I've portrayed of my Mother and Father is redundantly, unintentional. They are perfectly lovely people, just about the loveliest I've ever met.)
(P.S. Any maliciousness I have unintentionally imbued into the characters I've portrayed of my Mother and Father is redundantly, unintentional. They are perfectly lovely people, just about the loveliest I've ever met.)
