Ducks Can't Fly

If birds had feathers they will not hang  
On grills, spiced up, roasting aroma 
Feeling the air, with juice  


My taste bud, ready to engage  
Consumed, my lips left with evidence  
Of my indulgence   


If birds have feathers 
Oh but they do   
Well before being unplugged   


Oh but they do  
If birds had feathers to fly 
They would not hang on grills


For they will know to fly 
And not walk, or run, slow enough 
To be caught, by the man with no feather 

Rains on the Crow

Close to discovery, stood in rains  
Like the crow on door knocks  
Awaiting stages to shine on  


Conditions on forces, do conspire  
To be left with the crucifix of perception  
Warmongering on fearful instinct,  against on reaction 


If only the crow had feathers so bright 
Like the parrot, like the birds of paradise 
To be given a platform in rooms 


So adored, delighted, on worship  
Hanged at the best spot, for all to see
Talked about, like the dolphin's prestige 


But not so says, was it to be 
Fearmongering on instinct
Perception had t' judges jumping off their skin 


It is the stories, from before as told   
The cinema clips projected, propaganda  
That holds the blame, as with t' books of history told


If only the director did pick another
Just not the crow, just not the crow
But another, just not the crow, Gothic, raven  


Left to stand in the rain 
Denied its rightful place of intelligence hold 
Darkness of it's feathers, hides its drench