dragon, Fantasy, poem, poetry, Sonnet

The Luckiest People Eat Humble Pie

bone (c) in medias res by Melinda Kucsera

The Luckiest People Eat Humble Pie

The first person I encountered today
wasn’t supposed to be dragon, glaring
mom’s disapproval down at me, no way!
Her red claws caged me where I stood staring,
holding the last piece of sweet pumpkin pie.
Her magic engulfed me and my skin itched.
“Mom this is child abuse!” I cried but my
words left my beak as chirps. My form she’d switched
again for a bird’s wings but why this time?
“I told you not to start another war.”
Mom’s flaming eye enlarged showing my crime.
Bloated bodies, sun-baked, are dead from war.
I eat the dead because I’m a vulture;
I eat humble pie like a shamed creature.

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Like vignette-style poems? I’ve got lots on my Tales of Shayari page or my Poetic Fantasy page.

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Inspired by the Daily Post’s prompt The Luckiest People and Humble Pie.  This is my dark | side | Thursday contribution as well because it’as rather dark (morbid?) at the end.

6 thoughts on “The Luckiest People Eat Humble Pie”

    1. Thank you, the whole thing just came together in a strange flash while out walking when I came across roadkill of all things. Just when I thought I’d pass those two prompts up, I had a response to both. It’s was the strangest thing.

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