The Crow

May 29, 2011
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The crow's nest, where the crow rests.
The black crow roams where the crow knows best.
The forest mess, where the crow invests.
An arrow to the crest, a chest without a vest.
The scarecrow devours its test.
The crow wasn't dressed to be blessed.

Unless it wasn't a test, but was addressed to the best.
Now what the crow detests, he must confess.
The distress of the crow that made him obsessed.
The pest that made the crow go west.
The crow was not oppressed but possessed.
The crow could not impress nor progress.
His request he must ingest.
But to digest is to be repressed.
They will infest on the suppressed.

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