The air is alive with fear and sorrow.

As leaves fall to the ground, turkeys are killed.

I probably won‘t last until tomorrow;

I’ll be dead, and with stuffing I’ll be filled.

Turkeys everywhere cower in terror,

As humans run around with their big guns.

They come running out from their distant lairs;

They come to slaughter our daughters and sons.

Fear is in control of us as fall comes;

We scamper for our lives as the leaves fall.

As the death count reaches its highest sums,

Turkeys collapse where they once stood tall.

I have to think as I cower and hide,

Thanksgiving doesn’t look fun from this side.

In a world without Monday...

Tuesday is everyone’s least favorite day. People are wearing “I hate Tuesday” shirrs. People would grumble and groan every Tuesday morning, wishing it to be any other day. Somebody on Prose would post the prompt “Imagine a world without Tuesday.”

Imagine a world without Tuesday (or Monday)...

Wednesday is everyone’s least favorite day. People are wearing “I hate Wednesday” shirts. People would grumble and groan every Wednesday morning, wishing it to be any other day. Somebody on Prose would post the prompt “Imagine a world without Wednesday...”

Imagine a world without Wednesday (or Tuesday or Monday)...

Thursdays would be everyone’s least favorite day...

(And so the cycle continues)

Ever wonder where oceans get their salt?

They’re salty because of my sharky tears.

I guess my tears are all the humans’ fault,

Because the humans generate the fears.

I want a hug, is that too much to ask?

I’m lonely down here in the blue Pacific.

I guess I have fish friends like squid and bass,

But let’s be real, no one in specifics.

The humans fear me; they all swim away.

They think I’m a killer who wants them dead.

The fish all think they’re my food everyday;

They scream and leave when the water turns red.

I wish I had an underwater friend,

Because then all my sharky tears would end.