I often thought about you
And your free range chickens
Being happy on the land
Living life free
Both pecking and scraping
Getting life from the dust
But I didn’t know
That it could never be enough
Tho’ scratch might make some happy
I found out too late
That it wouldn’t do for you
But if I could
Believe me true
I’d bring you chickens
Instead of flowers
To brighten up your room
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem