Poem Body
I am born black, the color of mourning.
No one cares to listen to my music.
If seen at bird feeds, I'm scorned.
Only the aged have crow's feet.
A devil in bed time stories.
Yet my spirit is buoyant.
I can look down at the world
Touch the clouds
I've followers who believe
"shortest distance is how the crow flies"
Imagine a world without black.
A day without night.
It's like being color blind.
White stands out by contrast
The Raven Brings.
Comments
Raj
A well written touch of the Raven's good side.
I look at some of these what we assume is a black bird and the colours when you get real close to them is really something we can rarely copy, it seems a vague colour of purple and sometimes a green so dark as to appear Black.
Take care of you,
Yours Ian ..
Thanks Ian
appreciate your taking time to read my scribble and comment...
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a touching look at what it
a touching look at what it feels like to be an outsider. the importance of contrast. I have an song on an album I'm working on that sings, "an eagle once, a blackbird many times, a dove forever." it tries to capture that same feeling, that an eagle with it's white head is majestic is awesome, but the blackbird is that every day contrast, like the night to the day. a fun read.
Thanks Greg for taking time
Thanks Greg for taking time to read and comment...the theme of the song you are working on is pretty interesting...
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