The Crow
I live with a crow
That I cannot evade.
Its nest a building of brick
Rather than straws of hay.
Its beak so sharp,
It can ravage your soul.
Its mouth so eager
To swallow you whole.
It never ceases
To mock and caw.
It has no virtues,
It follows no laws.
Though it's always wrong,
It insists it's right.
It never stops screeching,
Not even at night.
It does nothing itself,
But demands of me:
Do all my tasks
Upon my decree!
If I do not do
What it exclaims,
It flushes my happiness,
As well as my flame.
Though there are times in the nest
in which I'm away,
the Crow continues to stalk.
It will never go away.
I may never escape
This cruel crow.
And so my hatred
Will continue to grow.
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