Bucket Hole

Crows huddle to plan the next move 
While rabbits lay trap for the fools that swoon 
The goose and the gander never had a chance 

They eat like their last meal every night 
Hoping someone would turn out the light 
Maybe on that day they’ll learn how to dance 

I left my old hole to see the day end 
Fixated by the glares of little old men 
As they made their way, broken and beaten again 

I heard the small cry of a child laid bare 
Holding the remainders of some curly hair 
Hoping for warmth and the peace of a motherly stare 

As the evening begins will you sit with your friends 
And laugh on the good days and cry for the sins 
That ravaged the ones that you loved 

Sing of the beauty that held your gaze 
Hope in the promise that one day will stay 
When the world will stop looking above 

I laid down my bucket, filled to the brim 
With the only cares I chose to take in 
It’s cold in the night with no one to hold again 

I’ll trudge through the woods filled with the books 
Of spirit and zeal and life long crooks 
So easy to see, but you have to take the time to look

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