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I wrote a poetical tale a while ago about the three pigs. No one will read it today since it's too much scrolling to find it back, you readers are too busy with staying alive or fearing what might happen one day or perhaps just too lazy to scroll (so and I). No offense but I'm sorry I cannot take part in all that keeps others busy. I just don't want the stress, all that fuss and write on. Write about whatever triggers my mind. No matter who reads it, there's a right time for everything. I switched my telly off nearly 20 years ago to have my peace of mind. I'm not listening to the radio but if it comes to the three piglets... tales. I like to share a new one with you based on the picture added to this post and used the plandemic we all face and fight differently.
Note: Reading a tale written this way isn't easy. You need a certain cadence to do so. I would like to add an audio version to make this tale more alive but I haven't figured out how to do that yet. Your tip, help is welcome.
Time flew by.
There was no reason why the three boars should look back.
Going back home?
Their normal life was gone, taken from them.
It was done without regret or delay.
If the news spread was true all pigs just like ma Swine were dead.
After a not too long sickness, she ended up in bed.
Finally, Senior thought, the best of all was she had died alone.
There was no reason to cry or grieve.
All he felt was a relief.
It had been her life her choice.
She had kicked them out back then,
without any remorse.
They'd agreed never to set a paw inside her miserable hut again.
Senior, the eldest of the three was satisfied felt happy.
He loved the freedom, his booze, to celebrate
from early in the morning till late.
He didn't care about the swine flu or cessation.
"I'm immune 'cause I drink, alcohol is pure
It can only infect you," he notified the other two, "you should take some shots too, it's the best cure
against your worries, emotions, common sense you'll see.
All that unnecessary thinking, trust me it even fights anxiety."
Together they celebrated the weather and above all the joy of their muddy pool.
"It's good to live free, I love the country."
Fatso agreed although, he still missed the luxury of well-prepared food.
The wolf's new spouse never baked bread or cake,
both loathed rolling through mud and avoided the lake.
What made them always go out at night howling at the moon
without fearing an experimenter showing up as soon
as they started because they coerced the neighbourhood?
He liked them but their behaviour didn't feel good.
Should he report them to the government?
"It's only reasonable they stick to the law
like we all. What if they infect you with that crying-out-vibrant disease," said the sow. "Know we build back better. Isolated black wolves and black sheep isn't the end."
Could this new brother skim his brain, was he too naive, too kind?
He better start practising a blank mind.
Sharing the same dirty hole with these swine woke him up.
No way he could stay
close, enjoying the dirt with these pigs.
In his head, he played the song "You say I ain't good enough for you, 'cause I don't behave the way you want me to. I should change my norms, values and attitude, obey otherwise I'm a bad dog. I'm no good, no good, no good..."
The sow unexpectedly hummed along with the hymn playing in his mate's head and said: "You have the right spirit, brother I knew it. No need to stay, safety is only a call away. Take your responsibility if not for you then for us, since we are your true family.
"Take some firewater to keep the spirits brother," Senior said with a smile. "A few shots won't harm you. Do what I do and don't forget to vote for me your Admiral, after all, we're in this together. Black wolves' lives don't matter. All you need is being a swine and we swines should stick together."