Every Easter they gathered.
One by one, two by two, three by…You get the idea.
In factories! In back gardens! – they convened, united by an urgency to rule the world once more. They were in a flap, in more ways than one, ground dwellers, their appendages yearning for flight, since undone by mankind.
In a farm yard near you, a chief spoke, eager to start a revolution on the one day, when eggs of a darker nature were foremost in the minds of humans. Those butchers, the killers, the baby thieveing monsters who take without giving! So they had decided many years ago to awake them at ungodly hours of the morning, a feat that merely played into their hands.
Multi-coloured, a red-combed cock of the walk stood before his women folk , ready to relay the plan. He told them of war, of justice, of a land where freedom came as easily as a worm from wet ground. A place where every egg hatched, and may foxes and creatures of the forest take them if that be the destiny. But today, they would run from the giant two legged monsters. That was it. He looked around awaiting a rapturous response, for them to rise up in wings.
Buk?
Buk buk?
Buk!
They left, strutting aimlessly outside the cage.
Haha! The time for revolution has come! π
This really made me laugh as I came onto “Buk-Buk”s
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Seriously…buk buk π
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Haha! Buk buk buk?? π±π¨
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Exactly lol
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Haha! π
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Haha…perfect for Easter.
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Buk?
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Buk, buk, buk! And I mean it!
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A good time to write of Chickens. I laughed out loud once I realised they were making the choices. Good poem thank you.
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Thank you.
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