The oyster voicing his complaint.
Disturbs the peace beneath the sea.
The haddocks say that he is quaint
a relic from prehistory.
He will not move to seek his prey,
stays firmly anchored in one place.
He says this the oyster’s way.
They weren’t designed to hunt and chase.
We were not meant to move at all.
Our food supposed to come to us,
provide us with the wherewithal
to maintain life without a fuss.
Oysters prefer to stay in bed
and wait in patience to be fed.
10-Apr-08
ivor or ivor.e hogg
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tradition-rules-todays-idiocy/
