a cow is a cow it cannot crow, <br />just stand on four by the green field hills; <br />chewing, ruminating, bending low <br />over and over till its had its fill. <br /> <br />the zebra like keyboards on a piano <br />characteristic of its name, and so it's fixed <br />cannot switch hues to and fro, <br />ebony and ivory just such a mix. <br /> <br />a tiger growls, a scarecrow's silent. <br />such is nature, a fixture unbending. <br />hunting to survive, its this much violent; <br />a wound unwinds itself-a-mending. <br /> <br />as permanent as a moment, <br />yet fickle like stone; <br />how oft we sulk and carp and lament <br />about a person's little mean bone; <br /> <br />but like a leopard keeps its spot <br />or weeds that grow from cracks in rocks, <br />actions, like carcass up on a loft <br />stained with blood and etched in locks. <br /> <br />change, they may but change they never <br />nature and actions just will not sever.<br /><br />Tiffanie Lein<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/no-apologies-3/
