Alas, Poor Pigeon

A Poem about a poor pigeon and his experiences in life.

Alas Poor Pigeon,
Your life is spent
on bread that stales in a day and is slightly bent.
You weep like it is the fall of a religion.

'Las Poor Pigeon - While you weep
The crows have come down from the North
To show off the amaculate feathers they keep
and their shiny beaks they parade forth.

Alas Poor Pigeon, don't mind the crows.
Approach them, then tear out thier throats
Eat veins like spahgetti and watch the crimson water flow
Like the water in the river where a corpse bloated a'floats.

'Las Poor Pigeon - Don't feel ashamed,
For all there begging an crying
It is all just a fun game.
So chin up and start those beaks a'frying.

Poor Pigeon, gaze in glory
In what you have become.
Your feathers are black and you are all gorey
and your voice as Booming as a bass drum

Proud Pigeon
Reckless wigeon
Is just Pigeon Pie,