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THE EAGLE, THE DUCK, AND THE ROBIN



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THE EAGLE, THE DUCK, AND THE ROBIN

In the thick southern forests I used to call home The eagle flew proudly; the sky was her throne. 'Twas there 'neath a pine tree I watched as she soared; The master of skills I have always adored. She trims to the breezes for effortless lift, And floats like a kite on the string of her gift. Her eyes catch a movement, at once she descends; Then, clutching her prey, she returns to the winds. As I sat in that forest, impressed by the sight, A duck waddled up and he quacked with his might: ""I pity those eagles, I'm sorry for them; Those handicapped birdbrains, they can't even swim! Their toes look so funny, no webs on their feet; Compared to us ducks, those birds aren't complete!"" The duck waddled off just as quick as he came, Then in flew a robin and he started the same; ""I pity those eagles, it's such a sad thing, Those handicapped birdbrains, they can't even sing! Such squawking and screeching, why can't they just 'tweet'? Compared to us robins, those birds aren't complete."" The robin flew skyward, I sat and I stared; For fowl-mouthed opinions I wasn't prepared. The duck and the robin both tended to find The lacking in others, and so they were blind To all of the virtues the eagle displays, Her strength and her beauty, so worthy of praise. I learned then a lesson that reaches so far; Forget other's limits, just see what they are!
Wes Stephenson

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