The Crow


A single walk in the woods is all I really need

to clear my mind of awful things I have felt and have seen.

A lonely crow sit delicately on a stump

watching me dilligently as leaves under me, crunch.

"To where are you going?" the crow asked with a sneer.

I looked at him and pondered what he mentioned, and asked politely to the crow,

"Excuse me Crow; What are your intentions?" The Crow perked upright and craned his long black neck.

Unsettled, I turned away and took a small step back.

"You see, my darling, we're all part of a game. You either die in love, or live a life of shame. We all have a purpose here, on this earth, but we all take it for granted, and forget what our life is worth."

"We're all prisoners in this land that we call free. We're all destined to die. What, my dear, can you not see?"

I took a breath and started to think, maybe he was right. This "perfect" world we live in isn't actually alright.

We love, we lose. It's all part of a game. If we take what we're given for granted, we live our lives in shame.

Before I could say a word, the Crow stretched out his wings.

"You see, my darling, you people, think too much. And with too much thought, there can't be much good that you can bring."

He flew away and the wind began to blow.

And with that, I will never forget the words of the wise, black Crow


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741