the scarecrow

i'm a scarecrow in a viridescent field
i observe ideas, yet can't exploit them to yield
unable to move, allocating inattention
i'm filled with concepts and hypothetical intentions
i watch as the dead grass falls from my arms
wildfires don't scare me, but crows trigger my alarm

the crows, they think they are worthy of maize
they live in the clouds, but don't see the haze
they're all the same and they're never afraid
so i watch the field, wishing it was ablaze

i'm a scarecrow in a viridescent field
it's pretty and fertile and sometimes i feel
a flower at my foot, but i realize it's a dream
'cause the air is poison and the crows always scream

i watch the rows form a complicated maze
i'm so lost and confused, but i've never even raised
a foot to walk; i've rarely ever moved
and now the crows are here, so again i'll lose

i see this mystifying place, through this expanding haze
it's pretty, but it would look better in flames
and so would i, 'cause then maybe i'd make
the crows afraid
finally afraid

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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