The Scarecrow

The scarecrow 
Surrounded in a field of sugar cane
The sun begins to set 
He musters out a yawn
A horizon he has seen for the last 34 years
From which he was placed to lay and hang
He ponders to himself
I am made of straw
Just a device
For the so called alien of nature
I receive no love
Only hatred and torment
On rainy days
 I am chilled to the bone
Mushy and soaked
On sunny days the crows pick 
And make fun
I have no friends
Only the creepy crawlies 
That dwell upon my body
they eat me alive
I wonder
Why
Why 
Why do I deserve such a life!
I still live even though I have fallen apart!
A strong breeze brushes past The rows of fields
through my straw dwelling
suddenly 
 Silence Unbearable silence
I then hear a voice
I turn my head to the source
It whispers
You help me survive
The scarecrows body shakes
Tears pour down his face
The scarecrow smiles
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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A   Avatar
February 12, 2016 at 8:30 AM
Thanks for the reply
A   Avatar
February 11, 2016 at 8:50 PM
I like this Fullmoon Sway, :) I'd hate to be the scarecrow. Always getting picked on. I read many poems today. This is my favorite of today. Good to read it moves on, even when all is shattered... Enjoyed. LINDA
Sway Avatar
February 12, 2016 at 8:10 AM
thank you very much Linda - *hugs*-fullmoonsway :)
Sway Avatar
February 11, 2016 at 11:11 AM
Who do you think talked to the scarecrow?
Warrior Avatar
February 11, 2016 at 1:34 PM
Beautiful analogy Fullmoon...O.K. is it his conscience...mind...his brain...^WW^
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