The Pleasant Pheasant
Bought a present
for his friend
who was a peasant
The Pheasant loved
To play outside
And see the trees
In the countryside
There was green as far
As the eye could see
With lakes and flowers
But no city
The Pheasant would
Fly with the flock
His only dream
Was to be like a hawk
He dreamed of flying
through the sky
Big and free
And not so shy
The pheasant quivered
At the thought
Of the trial
To become what he is not
But you’ll never grow
Or learn to fly
Like a hawk
Unless you try
(c) 2019 Tanner Stevenson
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