An Early Wake Up Call

The early sun rose from behind the hills. It was a wake-up call for me. Full of pep, I flew atop the post One of many that surrounded the hen pen. I gave my best rendition of a poultry reveille. My lovely harem came to my call. Some ruthless spoilt sport hated me. Was it unreasonable to be wakened up At such an early morning? A boot came flying out of the window Hitting me on my head. Down I fell onto the hard ground, Lay still, dizzy with the blow. My hens ran around clucking, afraid. Mine was an unyielding demanding For though old, I did love them all Now I just lay there deflated Alas, I was past my prime. For now, I lost the symbol of my pride!