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The Crow Who Hasn't Any Wings
The sun arose on the tulip fields
the trees tinted golden-brown
The windmills churned with tenacity
as farm workers slouched and frowned
A rose erupted of red,
as the Bluejays ecstatically sung,
The pond glistened and sparkled of blue,
as the carefree children were stung
By the wasps from the balcony’s nest,
Who seldom ever won.
Primarily because they would die whenever they sting someone.
But up in a willow,
Weeping without as much as a cry,
sat the Crow without wings,
who never got the chance to fly
“Oh!” It screeched
out to the sky
“Why? Why me?
Please, let me die!”
So the Crow gazed down
to the dirt below
contemplating the choice:
To live or Die? he did not know
So he whistled to the Dove
his neighbor from next door
and hollered the question
“Shall I remain in the tree, or plummet to the floor?”
“Plummet to the floor?” Replied the Dove
“Have you gone mad?
Sure, you can’t fly,
but that’s no reason to be sad!
You’ve so much life in you,
no matter how grounded,
so stop moping!”
The Crow was astounded.
For once in his life,
he wasn’t pounded
with negative comments
with which he was usually surrounded!
However, the question was rhetorical
the Crow had made his mind
so he left the Dove with a simple “Thank you”
and jumped to leave this world behind.
The Dove was dismayed
and plummeted into sadness
and when the forest heard
they declared his emotions “Madness!”
So in order to show
the forest what he felt
He too jumped off his own branch
the final blow needed to be dealt.
And when the forest heard
of his unfortunate passing
they gazed at his grave
and burst out laughing.
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My first narrative poem with a rhyme scheme. It's fairly morbid, but I hope you enjoy!