A crow looked at me, From within a tree
beyond branches and leaves
I could see its little beak, open and shut
Squawk and squeak, I feel in rut
Watching the sunset from my porch
I see a bird fly right past me
There's a beauty, in all the stuff
There's beauty in it, it just isn't enough
The sunsets just a split second
So I take pictures and videos
I've yet to grow to regret it
They just never look real though
- Author: jake (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: July 24th, 2022 06:54
- Comment from author about the poem: a small section of a larger writing i'm writing
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
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