The Goose Who Hated Me Poem by Micron Jan

I strolled through the park, so calm, so serene,
Admiring the flowers, the grass, and the green.
A honk in the distance—I turned just in time,
To see a goose glaring, with eyes full of crime.

"I'm harmless, " I thought, with a confident grin,
But the goose had decided it hated my skin.
It hissed like a dragon, ignored kids and their ball,
Focused on me—me, the target of all.

I tried to walk slowly, pretending to flee,
But the goose had one goal: to chase only me.
It strutted, it lunged, it aimed for my shoe,
And I realized quickly: running is due.

I zigged past the benches, I splashed through the grass,
While people all laughed at the feathery farce.
It ignored all the others, not one it would chase,
Clearly it had picked me for this ridiculous race.

Through puddles and petals, I fled with despair,
As laughter erupted from everywhere there.
The goose stayed relentless, proud in its fight,
A one-bird vendetta, my own private fright.

By the pond, I collapsed, panting, a mess,
The crowd still snickering at my distress.
One goose, one human, a tale to retell,
Of a park, a chase, and a hate that excelled.