Turkey Trouble

What could I possibly be thankful for?

Thanksgiving is nearly here!

It is the one holiday that fills me with undeniable dread.

It's the only holiday that makes me feel true, unrelenting fear.

***

I am a humble turkey.

I'm the bird Benjamin Franklin once hoped would become a national symbol.

The bald eagle was decided upon however,

I suppose no one thought I was nearly as majestic, proud or nimble.

***

You see, I am an odd, quirky kind of bird.

I am plump, clumsy and slow.

When it comes to Thanksgiving dinner however,

I'm thankful I can blend in, roost high off the ground or lie low.

***

When did this unforgiving tradition—Thanksgiving—emerge?

Can anyone answer me that?

When did humans start hunting us poor turkeys to the ends of the Earth?

Just to cook us up, stuff us, serve us smothered in gravy from a boiling vat?

***

What about chicken, beef or oven-roasted ham?

Why couldn’t those tasty dishes be served up instead?

What makes them so untouchable on Thanksgiving?

Why is there such a large price on my head?

***

I am beautiful! I am talkative, fluffy and colorful!

My plumes are soft and my tail feathers are bright!

I add a friendly chorus of gobbling noises to the world!

How can eating me with a side of mash possibly be right?

***

Turkeys are so misunderstood.

We are mighty, resourceful, strong birds.

Do humans know these facts about us?

Perhaps not. After all, what good are just one turkey’s bold words?

***

So please, spread these words!

Tell all humans, for goodness sake, let them know!

We turkeys will no longer be served up on their plates!

Traditions can change—so can this one. Thanksgiving didn't start that long ago…