The Drunken Thoughts of A Crow

I am hammered and cold

Punching trees and bricks with a painful fist 

Riding in the back of a stick shift

In defeat from a well rehearsed dick

And my thoughts linger on irrelevant things like my sex life

And being in love

I’m fighting for something and it’s unclear

I’ll attempt to make a fictional name for myself and be heard

I read the palm of a prophet last night

And it said I’m alright

But is just made me sicker

Because my little brother cried under his bed

While I just drank quicker

Then knowing my mother shivers in an office 

Or in her sped up drives

Of my lack of care and a debt of gray hair

Though my life is fine

I just can’t provide for you

I am no tortured soul

I am not afraid of death or love

I am just as tall, as you