Crow

Crow Sometimes the crow sits beside me on his wooden fence He acknowledges I am here then listens to the world for his own amusement His eyes are black but alive in a sense that everything he sees is poignant His body also black but also very pristine like a suit made by the government The lies he sees are preposterous and he harks at people’s discontent The world is very complex he knows but there is a final judgement The crow tells all to the Grim Reaper and all people’s devilment The crow eats vermin for the flesh and the blood keeps him vigilant It must be hard for an intelligent bird to sit so long and see confinement The bird has wings but they only use them to flee animal’s punishment Sometimes the crow sits beside me on his wooden fence.