The death of Mr. Crow

King of the castle
A rook on the roost
All that he surveys
Is his to be used

He takes what he needs
With an elegant swoop
A big juicy worm
And a fat grub to boot

It's better this way
When he's soaring the skies
Swerve among rooftops
Catching the flies

Spin towards earth
A turn of the head
Sees that car coming
Too late. He's dead

by queenphoenix
posted on 05/31/2007