Day 17: A poem: Birds can dig too


There is a hole in the ground, and in that hole lives a feathered creature. A bird. No need for a name, and he needs no fame. He has long feathers that glaze down his back, and digging skills in not something that he lacks. He has a long beak and he gets holes dug. Everyday he comes out to play, rain or shine, he does just fine. If he finds a rock he says “Its mine! You cant have it” And he makes is voice heard, Because if he can do one thing, its sing like a bird.

He can dig too.

The end.

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