Murder of Crows. A poem.

A tendency to exaggerate.
Variable and inconsistent,
A migratory bird, unaware
Which hemisphere is up
Or what time of year it is.

A mountain and a molehill,
Keynotes of your dependency.
Furtive and insecure
And longing for approval;
All wayward illegitimacy.

Time to find the truth within
And not try so hard
To be party to an
Estranged and inconsolable
Murder of crows.

For more Poetry, click here.

poetry books - stevestillstanding

For more of my poetry, check out Poetry for the Sad, Lonely and Hopelessly Endangered and The All or the Nothing, available in print or e-book formats.

Click here to find out how to get your copy.

8 thoughts on “Murder of Crows. A poem.

Add yours

  1. One thing is certain here
    you want to find the truth
    everybody wants to find it
    truth makes our soul free
    free from that small booth
    we all know as ignorance
    getting to see through lies
    makes our souls soothe.

    Liked by 1 person

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