Old John Crow
Old john crow was dirty as a coal mine canary.
So, they tossed him into a bucket of suds.
Scrubbed him up and down for decades.
He smelled nicer-looked cleaner for a while.
but the grime wormed its way deep into his insides.
The echo of old john crow never stopped cawing.
Because old john crow never really died.
Copyright © Anthony Biaanco | Year Posted 2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment