Singular Dream

I was born in Speckled Eggs Garden.
I will die on Broken Egg Farm.
I’m hopping between them now,
I consider everything
to be friendly
and nothing dubbed.
I am a chick with legs
and yellow hair.
Oh Lord Almighty, creator of
all things beautiful and sick,
who prefers another life on top of this,
who are you to judge?
When Adam and Eve vanished
solemnly into the dark,
shrouding themselves in the forest,
I was timid and nibbling and
stayed behind, betrayed only
by the plucking of my beak
upon the ground you so graciously
provided (thanks).
I did noth with the best,
I am nothing now, do ye
noth with me or not?
Hear me now before I break
O Lord of the Margent,
Lord of noth and straw and all things
sent far, cheerio, sincerely,
I sleep on one leg too!