My Parrot

I really didn't know what to say
When my mom brought home a parrot one day.
I'd teach him "hi" and "hello."
About one thing I didn't know:
He said "Take me for a walk."
I guess he knew how to talk.
But he was really quite absurd
To think that I would walk a bird.
He said "Goodbye," and tipped his hat.
I said "Come here, I don't want that."
He came but said that he would go.
He argued when I said "no."
So I put him in my room;
I was prepared for total doom.
He talked of treasure, and of gold.
I hardly cared for what he told.
The worst parrot of all creation
Talked of stars and constellations.
When I thought he'd reached his end,
He'd clear his throat, and start again.
At least he caught my dad's attention.
He talked of math, like dimensions.
He talked of jungles, and water vapor.
Of forests, trees, logs, and paper.
Not a parrot, more like a hawk.
All he'd do is talk and talk.
(All I could do really do was gawk,
While my Parrot would squawk and squawk.)
Talk and talk was all I heard
From the mouth of that stupid bird.
If he knew what he was saying,
I wouldn't be just playing.
If my mom knew what he said,
He would be just plain dead.
I should've just showed my mom,
Then all my problems would be gone.
Why couldn’t I have gotten a ferret
Instead of such a lousy Parrot?
Why couldn’t he just fly south
Or shut his stupid motormouth.
My parrot is such a klutz,
I think he talks way too much.
My parrot would always jab and jeb.
One day I found him surfing the web.
I opened the door, to my room,
And he took off, with a zoom.
He hit the wall, and dropped dead.
Not another word he said.
Soon I got another pet
Who not so many things he said.
jkc