Sense Sonnet - Tickler

 Doomsday is Coming

Being raised in the turkey farm,

I had a childhood full of fun.

But now I've reached age of alarm

That soon I'll be a serving one.

My feathers plucked, dressing stuffed in

Me to become a roasted bird

To go to where I've never been,

Tummies of bunch of human herd.

My farmer isn't looking, so

Time for my great escape to be.

A turkey on the run I go

Somewhere no one wants to eat me.

Turkey Day is coming, so I

Run, hoping I'll learn quick to fly.