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The Crow
Ashened by past regrets and sorrow,
Tainted from the tricks of the sparrow,
Staring atop of a shriveled tree of pointed arrows,
Sits the crow looking down below...

Wishing to spread his wings and fly,
Hoping to discover that the world is more kind,
Deciding that now is the time,
The time to escape misjudments...

For the Crow is often only viewed as what the eye initially perceives:
Deceptive, horrific, and mean,
Though if you take the time to read his story and all of the lines in between,
The Crow holds a very valuable key...

He observes in the silence when no one else sees,
He tries to stand out among the somber trees,
Oh, of how one day he wishes to be free,
And in a way I truly believe,
We are all the Crow to some degree...
© Aligator

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