Singingclarice's Blog

Why Did The Chicken Refuse To Cross The Road

 

Spring came first and grabbed the seed

Summer blossomed in the sun

Autumn hid it all in its greed

Winter’s freeze won in the long run

There in the bushes he lay in wait

Four little chickens lost from home

Traveling toward a tragic fate

They ignored their mama and decided to roam

Down the road to easy pickings

That field of wheat was mighty tempting

To those little chicklings

A blue dress, frayed and old

Invited the offers to give her a home

With new rags to drag in the vice laced cold

Pimped and squeezed left for dead

Feeding a golden field of weeds

The bus roared past never caring

A hepped up guitarist riding its coach

Grabbed a high note like a spinning top

Caught the weed and bled himself out

To be laid stoned in a potters field

Ripe for the picking the bird flew over

Rolling black and red goose eggs

His last roll in the chamber the grim reaper

The last to cross the great divide

Couldn’t resist the yellow ride

Of  Dr Jekyll, aka Mr Hyde

Golden flowers, sweet nothings and honeyed bliss

Milled her virginity in strangulation

The one in waiting

Remembering mamas words

Took no easy ride or greener pastures

He plowed and planted his golden harvest

 

(clarice) 05/16/2014

 

Tags: The Chicken Refuse

This entry was posted on May 24, 2014 at 2:31 am and is filed under poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.