The Ravens Cry

Kenneth, born and raised in the South, resides in Hamilton, Alabama. He enjoys sharing his unique perspectives on life through his writing.

Words fade, born twice and live spans slowly,

Mankind, an orphan of the universe, sits unholy.

Ravens cry a ceasing cry, looking mute to sunshine,

They fly freely, singing soft notes to simply confine.

Sun bears hard downward on the big Mississippi town,

Ravens sit in shade patiently plotting a meal so needed.

Poor farmer, poor sharecropper, beg ravens to just look down,

Only a truck patch, one plow, one woman, a life done seeded.

A proud conspiracy, says the travelin’ preacher

Sad souls in sand with no feet, a strange teacher.

Walk proudly, ravens black, stay from the sack

Land softly, ravens quite and find your sad life back.

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