The red beaked seagull flies in the sky
She knows that the moon will help her fly
If she flies early than she gets some
But when she is late, the feedings done
The other seagulls make fun of her
Because her beak is not as pure
It is red for she is new
I promise that this story is true
If you don't believe me then go and see
The red-beaked seagull up in the tree
She sees you gabbing way down below
And knows that it is time to go
For when a new species of bird is found
So often that poor bird is drowned
But this seagull will escape that plight
By saving up her points for flight
(I have been feeling very lazy and my poetry may be suffering as a result. Plus nauseous and dizzy as heck.)
