Poetry, Flash Fiction, Songs

I would like to learn to write songs and this is my first attempt:

Fifty-Fifty 

You can have the pink flamingo strutting
like a superstar model among the weeds.

If I can have the cooing mourning dove
From the feeder as it scatters seeds,

You can have the red barn, the Mickey Mouse
hiding in the loft, the bird’s nest by the door,

if I can have the treehouse in the red oak,
with its birch bark roof and pine plank floor

You can have your top secret skeletons
in soundproof closets, I won’t say a word

if I can have my imprisoned dreams freed
then watch them sprout wings and soar like a bird

You can have the Fort Knox aquarium
with schools of goldfish shipped from Wall Street

if I can have the greenhouse and Venus Flytrap
that went vegan and refuses to eat meat

You can have the butler, the one named Jeeves
who taught you English and made great lemonade

if I can have the email and phone number
of Mademoiselle Arnaud, our former French maid

You can have your top secret skeletons
in soundproof closets, I won’t say a word

if I can have my imprisoned dreams freed
then watch them sprout wings and soar like a bird

You can have the pool to swim at midnight,
the overflowing birdbath that quenches the parched lawn

if I can have the yard of scampering chipmunks,
the howling alley cats and lovesick toads croaking until dawn

You can have the entire house, window to window,
the roof and basement, all the hardwood floors,

if I can have the screened porch at sunset,
the neighboring galaxy, any aliens knocking on the door

You can have your top secret skeletons
in soundproof closets, I won’t say a word

 if I can have my imprisoned dreams freed
then watch them sprout wings and soar like a bird

 

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