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Day of a Pigeon - A Poem

Sitting on the building ledge.

I can see so many people teetering on the edge.

Their faces are tight with stress.

Made worse when I make a mess.

My wide-set eyes

See all their unhappy lies.

They go to and from many places,

Anger etched in their faces.

Some are good people,

They just don’t know how not to be sheeple.

Other’s are just plain rude.

On their heads, I do something crude.

I coo all day, fly and eat.

Especially the bread the old lady drops at her feet.

She’s not mad.

Instead, she’s realized life can make you glad.

Me too. I’m pretty happy.

Especially when the rude are cleaning my crappy.

Photo By: Sneha Cecil

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