The Vulture Poem by Micah Yates

I eat the dead
And stick my head
Into the rotting remains of a carcass
The guts are tasty
The heart is pasty
For vultures death doesn’t alarm us.

My head is bare
I have no hair
My body is covered in down
But I don’t see
What’s wrong with me
Consuming the food I have found.

Black I am stained
My body and mane
Are the color of freshly made mud
My neck and my beak
The talons on my feet
Are always the color of blood!

My feathers and wings
Are marvelous things
They carry me to the remains
It’s easy to feast
Upon a dead beast
Of which personally I have not slain

For when you die
A vulture like I
Could easily devour your hide
And then you’ll see
That creatures like me
Are indeed filled with pride!