The Crow

It felt no remorse,
As it pecked at the corpse,
On the floor,
In the ditch,
Its squawk a high pitch.

His name was Mitch,
Wasn’t very rich,
Homeless actually,
No one will miss,
No one gives a piss.


5 responses to “The Crow

    • I know, it’s horrible to think that some people just don’t have anyone. When I first thought about this properly I had just passed a homeless man, I turned around and gave him some change.

  1. Creepy poetry is particularly intense. I like this.

    BTW, change “it’s” to “its” in the last line of first stanza.

    I also like the fact that the poem rhymes. I guess I’m old-school in that regard.

    • Thank you for your compliments, and thanks for pointing that out, I never would have noticed that (damn you Ipod and your predictive text).

      I like rhyming poetry too, it allows for more deeply embedded themes. For example, if the poem is about order turning to chaos in some respect, then the rhyming scheme could break down over the course of the poem.

  2. one time when i still lived in florida, i was at a gas station, and there was this tall, lanky, kind of scary looking man standing at the trash can right by my car. i got out and pumped my gas, and when i went inside to pay, i asked them if they knew there was a homeless man at the trash cans. they said, matter of fact, o ya, he comes here once a week, looking for food. wish he would move on. i asked them if they ever helped him by giving him food from the deli or left overs, they said o no, we could not do that. i went back out to my car but before i got in, i gave him 20 dollars. he grabbed ahold of my hand, and said over and over, bless u my sister. may god bless u, and i smiled and told him god had just blessed me at this moment. he and i turned around and went on our separate ways

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