Here there lies a pool of ugly green muck,
Trapping an isle of trees near the deck.
People point and complain at the sad sight,
Calling it gross, vile, and disgusting,
Pitying the birds strolling through the mess.
I’m set to join until I see a sign
Hidden by vibrant greens of grass and leaves.
The sign states the birds need these green waters.
These gross, vile, disgusting waters
Give life to them, the keys to their survival.
The muck gives them easy access to bugs,
Basis of all their meals, feasts, and banquets.
In fact, if I look a little closer,
That one, over there! There in the corner!
He’s plunging his head straight into the muck
And enjoying quite the fine gourmet meal.
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