Sitting at the entrance,
A single crow catches my eye
Confused, uncertain and forlorn,
As his fellows surf the skies.
He torques his head sideways,
Uncertain what to do.
The single crow insists on
Not flying when it's shoo-ed
Although the crow is all alone
He does not fright or crow,
He may be a little different but
Still, he wants to know.
Why are you here alone like me?
Pity, are you different too?
His question catches me off guard,
Get lost now, scram.....shoo!
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