Turkeys Hate Thanksgiving

Tucker Turkey here,

And I’ve just learned that people,

Have a funny way of showing they are thankful,

And I think that it is dreadful.

 

They must be mad,

I hear a feast is had,

And turkey meat,

Is the main fare on to eat.

 

Who decided we are good to eat?

Who came up with stuffing us,

And calling it a treat?

 

I won’t accept this fate,

I won’t, I won’t, I won’t!

Sorry Mr. Farmer,

If your plans are shattered,

But I won’t be being roasted,

And presented on a platter,

I don’t care if you starve,

It won’t be me you carve!

 

I thought I had the good life here,

I am so very fond,

Of my lazy days spent by the pond,

I’d not have guessed,

There were plans to kill me off,

Like one of the poison pests.

 

In one week to the day,

Light will dawn,

On their holiday,

So I must fly away,

To prevent becoming prey.

 

I think I’ll be a city bird,

In a paradise,

Where the weather’s always warm,

And killing their own meal,

Is not the people’s norm.

 

I’ve been told Miami’s marvelous,

And L.A. is lovely,

I wonder if the Sahara,

Would be satisfying?

To which of these places,

With year-round sun,

Should I run?

 

********************

 

I ended up in Vegas,

Where I soon became famous,

So shove it farmer,

‘Cuz it looks like it is certain,

That for me it’s not yet curtains.

 

I like the casinos and the shows,

And how at night,

Everything glows,

Each day I feel excitement,

Here is so different from the country,

Where it was mostly silent.

 

Yes this city’s full of charm,

And I do not miss the farm,

But yes Mr. Farmer,

I most definitely do,

Wish you harm!