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I Am The Scarecrow
I Am The Scarecrow
I am the scarecrow.
Hanging from this wooden frame,
a skeleton of twisted wood
that creaks and groans in protest
at the ravages of age.
The ice cold rain
trickles through my straw flesh
bringing chills to every movement
and dull aches to the knotted joints.
I am the scarecrow.
My sack-cloth head
full of sawdust ideas
that spill fr...
Thursday 21st January 2016 2:13 pm
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