Penguin Poems

I am but a bird in this life. A cage I call home. Running isn’t an option. Until they come and feed me. Then may I make my flight out of this place. Oh how I shall fly and soar to the highest heights. Yes dear human, open my cage.

Living a life wasn’t meant to be this way. Some would have you say it was an excellent achievement. Others would have you believe it was not. Either way, life found a way to divide itself out. By doing so, life would eventually end.