When I caught a glimpse of you, I barely could believe.
You sat there on my porch as if to be my sign.
And when our eyes locked, you didn't fly away.
Is it injured? Is it real?
These were my first thoughts.
Even as I opened the door, and stepped towards you, beautifully you held your perch.
You're the bird they love to hate.
Your beauty they can not see.
Dark, smart, and misconstrued.
They say that you're an omen, but I can see that you're my guide.
To the crow outside my window, you're always on my mind.
To the crow outside my window, you're really just like me.