The Scarecrow (Poem)

Darkened sky,
Barren hill –
Bloody field,
Deathly still.
Circling cry
Rings the sky,
High above
The scarecrow.

Hanging head,
Flapping wind,
Tortured mouth –
Weight of sin.
All who pass
Laugh at him,
Passing by
The scarecrow.

Limp in limb.
Heavy eyes
Drooping, see
All that lies.
Not a word,
Not a sound –
The scarecrow.

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