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A THANKSGIVING DAY POEM

Week before Thanksgiving,

I limp around real strange.

Huddle in the corner,

as though I have the mange.

All the other turkeys,

just gobble, gobble on.

I’m silent and I act

as if my gobbler’s gone.

Everyone is thankful

on Thanksgiving Day,

Friday it’s forgotten,

you all go on your way.

I know what thankful is

so listen when I say,

“It’s great to be a turkey

after Thanksgiving Day.”

author unknown

Image Credit: Pixaby, Public domain