Plucking The Duck's Feathers [Poem]

[Underground_Network]

Principally speaking
It's an abnormality
To remove the feathers
Of a duck
Without making it quack.

But what is rare,
And what occurs,
Can often be
One in the same.

It depends on your perspective,
Whether you see through clear glass,
Or a white wall; a fatally repetitive white wall.

No matter which you look through though,
You see the duck and feel the urge to pluck its feathers,
You pluck a rough, green feather, then a smooth, gray one,
And it doesn't even move its beak,
It just stares at you with it's deep black eyes.

Whether the duck quacks though,
Depends on the level at which your ears can here,
For some have a hearing ability
That is equivalent to the smelling ability of a bloodhound,
While others cannot hear at all.

And still, the deaf and blind
Will manage to pluck the duck's feathers
And hear it quack,
Or maybe not.
Regardless they will have achieved
What we never seem to have the effort to strive for,
The impossible.

But still,
No matter how hard you pluck its feathers,
The duck,
Will quack...
Or it won't quack.