The Early Bird Catches the Worm

Open up the can of worms and,

Take a long look inside.

They wiggle squirm excrete and eat,

To kill is genocide.

The worms fuel the birds of prey but,

The can keeps them from harm.

Silhouettes circle overhead,

But the can lost its charm.

A tin cell can’t hold my craving,

For something more than this.

My excitement escapes the birds,

Everyone hopes for bliss.

I broke the seal and escaped hell,

The birds still hunt by morning bell.