The black crow looks like my
newly bought suit and tie.
Black from my head to toe
He looks hungry, that crow.

The suit's itchy and tight
but just ever so slight
like the hand holding hard
but fails to keep me guard.

I don't know the girl's name,
All people look the same.
At least I know my toys,
there lies all my last joys.

Lonely birthdays are here
I'll be ten next year.
now I wish to go home,
Lie in their bed alone.

I know she and he
will not be there with me
because I'll leave them here
inside earth under sun clear.