Poem: The Crow

Rark.

 

Good-morrow to thee, fine crow,

Ebony rooster declaring the dawn,

Thy friendly voice I’d gladly know,

But alas, I must sleep, it is barely morn.

 

Rark. Raaark.

 

Avian friend by my bedroom close,

Persistent in thy tales of flight,

Perhaps it is early to be so verbose,

I had to work the late shift last night.

 

Raaaaaark. Raaark.

 

Do not think me rude if my window I close,

And into my pillow bury my head,

I bid thee good day, please feel free to go,

There’s no need to speak, it’s already been said.

 

…Raaaaaaaaaaark!

 

What the—?

Shut up! Shut up!

You’ve got a loud voice—congratulations.

Now shut up, stupid bird!

 

Raark.

 

Are you just going to sit there all day and squawk?

Who are you even talking to, you a lazy son-of-a—

Go away!

 

Raaaaaaaark.

 

I swear to God, if I had a gun right now…

 

Rark.

 

I’d blow that smug head off your shoulders,

Do you hear me?

You’re good for nothing!

What do you even do?

 

Raaaaark.

 

Actually… it’s a pretty nice morning,

I might as well get up,

I think I’ll go for a walk.

 

Raaark.

 

This doesn’t change anything between us.

 

Rark.

 

© 2018 MILES VENISON ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

2 thoughts on “Poem: The Crow

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: