A crow with lies for wings
lands on hope’s snow.
Perching on a broken dream
to peck tears that remain;
in a heart waiting for news-
inked with loss set in stone-
cold injustice; lets out a scream
from a brain numbed with pain.
Red with anguish for eyes
it faces tragedy’s toughest blow
like a leaf drifting down a stream.
Worry burdens its wings
pulling it all the way down
to drown in hurt’s sadistic scheme
holding it from its tail like a chain.
Why me it crows?
Let me go, I am just a crow
daydreaming about a broken dream.
I don’t ask for many things
just the right to be on my own.
Why is it so hard to redeem
freedom like rain turning into snow?