Chicken Wing Dreaming

Little Wings laid in the smelly bin
with his drumstick sticking out.
He wasn't too very happy
All he wanted was to get on out.

He was all bones, naked and tired.
Soon the flies will find him,
And boy, will they have him expired.

He didn't like how things had become.
He rested his eyes and to dreams he succumbed.

Back to when he was fat,
and crispy golden brown.
The little humans would chance
upon him without any frown.

They would pour too much ketchup on his skin,
Before sticking their forks
and knives right through him.

He didn't like how things had become.
He rested his eyes and to dreams he succumbed.

Back to when he was frozen
in somebody's kitchen freezer.
With him were lamb chops,
baby squids and his twin brother.

He couldn't move and bound
in plastic wrap, he was.
For weeks he remained there,
before they took him out for a tasty toss.

He didn't like how things had become.
He rested his eyes and to dreams he succumbed.

Back to when he was flapping about.
Much too quickly and much too loud.
The bigger humans
must have been really angry,
When they caught him it was all,
"Chop! Chop!"

He didn't like how things had become.
He rested his eyes and to dreams he succumbed.

Back to when he was flapping about.
Only this time, he was allowed.
He could feel the wind
beneath his feathered self,
As he flapped away
in his joyous wealth.

He liked this so very much,
he wanted to stay.
So he shut his eyes tighter this time,
As the good times rolled in his way.