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THE LOVING DUCK
THE LOVING DUCK
A duck was walking in the street
With little ducklings near its feet.
A duckling fell inside a drain;
The cover could fat mum detain.
It waited out quacking for help.
Some people came to grant that step.
It waited long till duckling came
And joined again the anxious mum.
I wonder if men are like ducks:
They fill the land with loudest quacks
For sex, the source of chicks, their love_
The same with hens, a bird and dove.
Wise men and women practice sex
In ways artistic and complex,
But they use pills new life to kill,
In urgent flaws abortion skill.
If that poor child is among us,
How long do we stay in the house?
I wish that duck will make us think
That life is not mere sex and drink.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________________________________
A duck was walking in the street
With little ducklings near its feet.
A duckling fell inside a drain;
The cover could fat mum detain.
It waited out quacking for help.
Some people came to grant that step.
It waited long till duckling came
And joined again the anxious mum.
I wonder if men are like ducks:
They fill the land with loudest quacks
For sex, the source of chicks, their love_
The same with hens, a bird and dove.
Wise men and women practice sex
In ways artistic and complex,
But they use pills new life to kill,
In urgent flaws abortion skill.
If that poor child is among us,
How long do we stay in the house?
I wish that duck will make us think
That life is not mere sex and drink.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
____________________________________
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