Old crow, broken you lie on the road.
Once you were a messenger of the gods;
A harbinger of doom, storyteller and spy.
Now flying vermin, shot at and reviled;
Your inky petrol coloured feathers droop
As you are wantonly left to die.
As you are left to die where you lie.
February 9, 2017 at 12:10 am
Love this
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February 9, 2017 at 12:15 am
thanks 🙂
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February 9, 2017 at 12:40 am
you’re welcome
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February 9, 2017 at 12:39 am
Have you listened to the link where my partner turned it into a song? 🙂
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February 9, 2017 at 12:42 am
no, but I will 😉
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