Caw, caw, caw, caw, caw.
I hear the crow
Sitting on a lightpost
On a mountain trail—
It's mocking the racers
Who skid down ice-coated slivers of ground.
It's a very rude crow.
It likes making fun of those below it,
Calling, "caw! I am the one
Who sits on my light post,
Who determines whether the light goes on or not—
I am the one
Who determines whether you see
In the night which is as black as my feathers!"
Of course, it isn't the one who determines such things,
But perhaps it's best to let it think that it is,
Lest we make it feel bad about its lonely existence
As it mocks the racers below the light post.
(Read the sequel, The Crow on the Tree)
The crow on the lightpost
More by Silent Wolf
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Bandaids for Bad Dreams
Bandaids for Bad Dreams
I wish there were bandaids for all the cuts on my arm,
but there’s no bandaids, because I can’t tell anybody
that I’m bleeding.
I wish there were bandaids for all my scars, -
Just the Villain
Villain
I tried to say hi to a girl yesterday
Can you tell me why she was so afraid?
I know I’m fine—not disfigured or two-faced
I promise you guys that I’m perfectly sane.
My teachers don’t seem to think I’m all there -
Enough
Isn’t it enough?
Isn’t it enough for you
That there have been 102 mass shootings
In the past year?
Isn’t it enough for you
That most of them have been hate crimes
And have gone unpunished?
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