A Murder of Crows
Even the walls have ears,
And gnarly gnashing of worn out teeth.
Waiting, just waiting with bated breath
For what will surely never come.
Whisper...
Just whisper.
Manic shadows struggling to move into the light,
Upon the walls of their own wrong judgments.
See how they run.
A bloody murder of crows
Swiftly fleeting , searching out the cracked plaster
That will land them in the now.
Now...I begin again.
Now I begin again.
Oops! Wrong thought.
NOW, I begin again.
Copyright © Catie Lindsey | Year Posted 2020
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment