Forlorn Field
In the midst of a forlorn field
Hangs a scary scarecrow
Working hard to fend of the crows
Catching them, giving throws
The raven then approaches him
Looking quite evil, sly
Death follows this horrible bird
Wrongful death won’t deny
He lifts up, flies above the fields
Not a fear in his blood
Until somehow the scarecrow grabbed
And destroyed all he could
The scarecrow then celebrated
Where the raven lies dead
He knew his powers were greater
Than the ravens small head
Russell Sivey
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