Brett Wean
A great man once said
Life is like a duvet cover
It holds greatness inside
The warmth of generations
The shelter in the storm
The lost souls of those who have come before us
But I feel that life is more like the duvet
Filled with the feathers of dead birds
You know they kill those birds
There can't be a way to strip a bird of all it's feathers and keep it alive
And what kind of birds are they killing
Chickens
It's chickens isn't it
They say it's geese
But it's not
You buy a duvet at Target you're getting chicken feathers
And that's life
You eat chickens
You sleep in their skins
You die
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Brett Wean
