The ceaseless squawking;
It continues day and night.
No end to their noise
Comes within my sight,
These feathered vermin;
Grey and white.
Do laze about the rooftops
Yet, each still able to take flight.
Outnumber me they do.
Outnumber me I say.
Outnumber me!
Squawking, and hawking away.
Their rotten chirping chimes in,
Merry eyed little blights
There's twelve to one within my sights.
I will have it no more, no more.
I can no further endure
Their fowl chiming,
Chirping, squawking and ceaseless hawking;
Tireless and without flaw.
They mock me they do.
Mock me I say.
Mock me!
I spotted a big fat plump one,
Eyeing me it is;
I hate that one the most,
And I get a good look at him eyeing up my toast.
Laughing at me I'd say,
Then a couple land near
Like thugs at the pier
Crowding ‘round they sneer.
And sngger too, would you believe.
They follow me they do.
Follow me I say.
Follow me!
This here flock,
Tracking my every move,
Evident to mock.
I've had it, had it up to here,
It sure becomes clear;
Oh gripe!
I took to the vigour
And took to the hype,
My fury, indeed ripe.
And my restraint now a blur.
But,
What I did next, I did so unwise.
For the breakfast, I did so prize,
Would soon be in the belly
Of the fat one, there, one with the big greedy eyes.
With my head out the window,
To give ‘em a piece of my mind.
And my arm out there waving.
The fattest of the bunch,
Was the first to come craving.
Swept right up on me he did;
with the pack; that also came to their rise.
This would be the part,
Where I was the one letting out the cries.
Snatched it right out'a my hand he did,
What a piggy devil I say,
They came at my hand
In an impressive, orderly array.
Right for the bakery delight,
I had out and on display.
Lesson learnt I suppose;
No matter how angry you get with the seagulls,
Hold onto your toast!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem