Gull

I perch atop a statue,
Or maybe a lamppost,
Screaming my cry,
Yet mostly ignored.
My pinpoint eye,
Tracking all that moves,
And watching for stray sandwiches,
Or crisps,
Or a bin bag I might try to rip.
You may recoil at the thought,
Of my scavenger life,
But notice me!
My upright stance,
I preen, my eyes sharp,
I can slice through the air,
In ways that you can only dream,
I am a proud, majestic creature,
With no use for your pity.
Indeed, I perch atop my statue,
And merrily smirk,
At your humble lives.