The March of the Penguins
The little penguins march along the ice
Battling against them
The might of the long winter’s crisis
The small ones under their mother’s bellies they crawl
Into a world of cold, their eyes opened
Marching weeks and months
Just to find
Some miracle rough food
The mothers and children stay
The fathers leave
Walking and marching for miles
And in between
The Crisis changes into the worse
Where the large bird descends
Toward the small penguins
The ones who have mothers
Run to them
While other shield themselves
By squeezing tightly together
As the merciless bird strikes
Some mange to run
While finally one is caught
In the ugly beast’s claws
And eventually gets eaten cruelly…
And when the dads come
Some find their sons
While others
Just endure another crisis similar
And for some
The dad recognizes his son
By his or her song
And beautifully they unite again
The father, mother, son
Stand
Together, proud and remarking
How beautiful their son is
And patiently the season changes
Summer comes, the ice melts
In the water they splash and swim
Day by day
All of the small penguins
Grow up
Their parents leaving them to a path of their own
They march again
How significant and enduring
I can’t describe how
A penguin really suffers…
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