Ok so, to keep in line with the whole writing thing, I figured I should post things I have written in the past. Maybe longer pieces, and maybe shorter pieces. This is a shorter piece. It's not incredibly profound or anything, but I enjoy it. I wrote it when I worked as a host at a restaurant and we were slow that night (wrote it on a order ticket).
I give you...
"The Ballad of the Chicken"
Enter the Chicken, with feathers light;
Brave and Daring, but lacking flight;
Lop of their heads, and see their plight;
The dying chicken, what a joyous sight.
We'll want to prepare them, first leave them overnight;
Put them in the cooler, packed in tight;
Comes time to eat them, first nibble then bite;
Gulp them on down, hit the spot just right.
They left some eggs, for us to smite;
covered in shell, that's oval and white;
Gone is the chicken, is gone tonight;
Gone to that great big chicken coop in the sky....
...Up where flies, the kite.
so, yeah. comment, tell me how horrible I am or how distasteful you found it. I for one, still enjoy it, despite it's lack of quality. eh.
Til next time Blogophiles.
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