The Crow

In a room of songbirds
She stands out like a crow
Her sleek all-in-black
Liquid ink against clashing colors
She has a heart of bird’s wings
Tucked gently inside her chest
Her beauty is comparable
But most fear her stare
They say it hits like an electric chair
Searing your brain
Others claim it reaches through your eyes
Causing the soul to writhe under its weight
They like the colorful birds
With their familiar songs
They dare not approach anything
More intelligent than what they’re used to.

~*~

A/N: “In a room full of songbirds/She stands out like a crow” is how this poem began in my head upon waking up early on Tuesday (5/15). It took me a couple days to figure out where it was going, but here we are. I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading.

~*~

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6 thoughts on “The Crow

  1. I like that you didn’t say “in a room full of crows, she stands out like a song bird”. It was beautiful, and real. However the last line needs to change “more intelligent than what they’re used to” could be better, more poetically put. It’s too obviously stated. Can you say something’s that evokes the same meaning, disguised in poetic smoke, leaving it for the reader to think for themselves, whether she is special or not.

    • I did kind of peter out at the end, didn’t I? Let me meditate on this to see what I can come up with to better the ending.
      Thank you for reading and taking the time to provide constructive feedback. I appreciate it!

  2. In a room full of songbirds/She stands out like a crow.
    I love the above lines. I know they’ll stay with me for some time. 🙂
    In a world where the definitions of beauty and acceptability are so narrow, it’s so important to highlight the importance of standing out rather than fitting in.

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