Staring outside seeing the crows ready to jump,

waiting to see my body drop so they can eat, 

Haunting me like the shadow that follows me

These birds of dispare are waiting to make their move

No cloak no scythe not even a reaper

Just frightening birds waiting to make their move

People say they aren’t scared of death,

They think it makes them more resilient,

but death is the one thing within my thoughts.

Crows follow me constantly as I have them on a leash

These birds are everywhere I go 

Still yet every time I ask people how to get rid of them;

they give the same response,

what crows?