My poems

Ever wonder why a group of crows is called a murder?

Most people's demons come out at night,
When they can sneak in the silent darkness.
But mine stay even in the sunlight,
I am surrounded, but owned by loneliness.

It never really matters where I go,
Because of them I'm never alone.
They swirl around me, cold as ice.
It's tough to say, but,
my demons are nice.

They protect me, strangely,
From any evil that crosses my path.
They even protect me from my father's wrath.

And from the boys at school, that joke and chide. My demons have always told me to hide.

To hide my face from friend and foe,
To never let them really know.
"Never tell the secret you keep,
Or else you'll end up six feet deep."

What's my secret? Why can't you know?
Well, I was born in the year of snow.
And as they say, the ones of snow
Can see all the worlds will show.

Normal kids, they only see earth
But I can see beyond the hearse.
I see your ghosts, your spirits, your ghouls.
I know what you're thinking: "that's so cool!"

That's what I thought, then my demons came.
They only leave me when it rains.
Even then, they aren't really gone,
I know they'll be back at the crack of dawn.

Uh-oh. Now you know.
This is the part that brings the crows.
Here they come, they're flocking down.
With all of the caws, you can't hear a sound.

A smile appears on my face. My dear, I have fallen from grace. That's what happens, to the kids of snow. We each get a group of crows. Do you know, what the group is called? Let's just say, it's where your curtain falls.