Human Consumption
Fluff your feathers, young bird.
Fly away.
You indeed have a life,
no matter that your mother
is dead.
Human consumption overtook her land so
flee!
You have no rights.
I, *****sapien, am god.
All land is mine,
your feathers are mine,
and the sticks you used to build your home.
Copyright © R C | Year Posted 2007
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment