The Chicken with Cold Feet
Way deep down in the jungle of concrete
This is where we find a chicken with cold feet.
He was a good friend with a guerilla, he was once
Friends with a lion. But the guerilla told that chicken
about all that got damn lying, something was wrong
with the chicken...the crocodile he would swim.
The tiger he would hunt,and the snake would slither.
Every animal in the jungle told that
chicken "just sit down litter chicken.
But now!he cluck, cluck,cluck all and
all night. One day it was time to put up a fight !!!
he looked right he looked left that's when he realized
there was no help in sight!!. The guerilla kicked
his ass north,south,east and west,rung his neck,
through him in the skillet and fried him up with the
rest. In the end...the moral of the story is ...you can
call him the chicken with cold feet,
or you can call him dead meat. But in the end
a chicken gone always be a what? A chicken.
Share This Poem