Ugly Crows
On your knees in preparation of tomorrow
When an empty chasm mind is filled with rot
Rotting people and situations proliferated
By the lack of compassion or acknowledgement
Bleeding off the skin that is so palpable
You could feast upon it and nurture despair
Like a hungry crow picking at garbage in the street
Desperately trying to find something to keep it alive
Finding nothing it weakly flies off on shaky wings
Starving with eyes puffed up, protruding
In a most ugly fashion.
This is what we are:
Ugly crows.
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