For The Life Of Me

Not For Contest Note-Again Connie reads the contest rules after she writes the poem, missing the fact that the poem should have ten lines or less. I told you I'm walking on eggshells. Why do all the chickens lay their eggs on my path They are filthy and smelly and can use a bath There's poop and stench pulling on my rope Where are all the hungry foxes to give me hope Please take them away from me on a jet plane I can't take this anymore, I'm going insane Fly them off to the sun so they'll burn to a toast Their presence has turned me pale like a ghost Why couldn't I have been the one to fly the coop Instead of slumping with the white-sheeted group Every day I see that family and six baby chicks That pulls my nerves while I watch them get their kicks These chickens should trip to the sun for all I care I'll even pack a lunch for them to see them flare Every day I hear buck-buck-buck while I walk on eggshells My life needs to be unfeathered because I'm living in hells