We watch it ache and screech, Tortured for some mercy in its misery, We’re not allowed to wring its neck All because the law can love a crow
Every time I mention its pain, I get scolded. Chastised. Reminded. This is farming country: and no one loves a crow They eat the eyes of helpless, newborn lambs All because farming country loves a lamb Especially one they can eat themselves
The call on the phone goes nowhere, Just like that now flightless, punished bird, Concerns dismissed by automated machines, No one bothers to come after the tone, All because no one loves a crow.
its been a while since I last wrote a poem, I think this was a pretty good reentry into the format