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Jan 2020
From the dead ravens sorrow
Ran the poor mother
Just a small sparrow
No more together

The dead shall rise
And we will be once more
The difference in size
Will be no more

The mother cry’s
The raven caws
The sparrow dies
Locked in a crocs jaws

The mirror I stare in
Before me now
I bare my sin
Bare, upon my brow

I see a raven stand behind
Cloaked in darkness
I am no more
Poetry of the unstable
Written by
Poetry of the unstable  20/F/Nashville
   --- and G Alan Johnson
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