Death, Fun, Journeys, Truth

The Ostrich, the Rock, and the Farmer: A Parable

Oh lookie here upon the ground –
what yummies do I see?
Delicious looking cakes I’ve found
all left here just for me.

I’ll swallow one – oh no, it’s hard.
It must’ve gotten stale.
But that’s ok, for my pillard
will take it, without fail.

I just don’t care what they all say.
I know I see a cake.
A rock they tell me – throw it away!
Your neck will surely break!

But swallow it, that’s what I did.
Oh no, I start to choke!
Will someone help me? Heaven forbid
that this is where I croak.

Oh thank you, kind and handsome sir
the one I see each day.
My servant surely, untrained cur,
he never goes away.

Ok, I’ve learned my lesson now.
I won’t make that mistake.
But look – there’s something on the ground.
Oh yay! Another cake!

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