Duck Pond

Puffed out chests and nonsense words
Funny little things
Your waddled walk remains your way
Despite the laughs it brings

Chasing others 'round the pond
Noisy little things
Honk and quack just to hear the noise
At least, that's how it seems

Gather round the small boy's hand
Greedy little things
You snatch before the mother can
To feed her ducklings three

But when the gentle child runs out of crumbs
Not a single thank you passes your tongues
You wait only to see that he's done for the day
Then you shake your tail feathers and waddle away