However, I still love school, Lit. and Biology especially. This is something I wrote for Lit after we had done a unit on Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. My poem is about a modern day pilgrim.
Migrants
Flighty white birds that travel in flocks Appear each year, with timing like clocks.
In fact, these birds are obscenely pristine,
They always and always and always are clean.
Swathed in feathers glistening with health:
These birds love preening, showing off wealth,
And flaunting their feathers—flawless and fair—
These birds, it's said, have had facial repairs.
Because these birds, they’re not what they seem.
They live for pleasure with very few themes:
Fashion, gossip, and golf courses too,
Pursuing their passions in only one hue.
Their lifestyle is rich, they feed off the land,*
Acting in ways which should really be banned.
These birds are common for birders to see.
Snowbirds are invasive, they’ll make others flee,
These birds shop at malls and fast food bars:
These birds, they're not birds! but some kin of ours.
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*Everglades, everglades, wherefore art thou, everglades?
