Sounds of water entered my ears,
Because of my steps on the wet street,
After a heavy rainfall, it had to bear.
My eyes caught sight of a crow,
With no willingness to fly anymore.
It laid low
My heart filled with sorrow.
Is it dead?
I got mad.
Thought possessed my mind,
For a moment, my mind got blind.
As it was dead,
My joyful mind,
Turned sad.
How miserable!
Unbelievable.
Wings that were meant to fly,
Were no longer willing to reach sky,
Eyes no longer willing to see,
The crow, no longer trying to flee.
No strength to stand again,
Seeing this, I was in deep pain.
But all in vain.
How miserable!
Unbelievable
I started walking,
Looking at the other crows, in the sky,
Flying.
YOU ARE READING
Dead Crow
PoetryThis is a poem, in which I turned my experience of seeing a crow laying dead on wet street after a heavy rainfall, into words, in memory of that crow.
