The Scarecrow

He suffered for his birth

Emerging from a fixed vessel

fault lines ran through his nature

Chipped and cracked but never broken,

the shadow of his being

distorted through expectation's glasses

Stuffed with straw

he broke a cobweb of pain

Standing a palm in a pine forest

unseasoned loneliness tastes bland

salted with a handful of dirt

the sun smelled cold

In the blackness of its light

came the music of silence

Nurtured by rains of rejection

blooming ignorance blossomed

bearing a thick skinned fruit of insensitivity

sprouting green over a cesspool of progress

Now sated

death drives a dusty old Ford

and hell follows in a Bugatti

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Yes my friend. In death. I will be in a Escort.
"Now sated
death drives a dusty old Ford
and hell follows in a Bugatti"
I liked the above lines Soren. Thank you for sharing the amazing poetry and your thoughts.
Coyote

[Soren]

Thanks my friend for your read.

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome Soren.

[emmajoygreen]

Your words offer both courage and sadness, a near hopeless, isolated start in life, little to show.. yet a time when the dark turned to shades of life. As to the end of your chain of melancholy words, there appears to be a lost line or few perhaps yet to be written as wishes and hopes turn from joy to poverty: physically, mentally and financially -losses various.. leaving the dried shadow that began your tale. Perhaps

[Soren]

Thank you so much Emmajoy, for your most thoughtful review and comments. They are most appreciated.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

You paint a visual masterpiece of solitude, my friend. I really enjoyed this wonderfully structured piece of poetry. One can't help but empathize with the scarecrow. In many ways he reflects us. Great work.

[Soren]

Thanks so much Carlos you are always perceptive in your readings and it makes it so much fun when people see some of the meanings in such abstract and difficult pieces. I can always count on you.

[Maria Morisot]

One cannot think of scarecrows without invoking a vision of The Wizard of Oz.
I grew up in Iowa, on the border of Illinois;
there were many farms there, and one orchard specifically
comes to mind while rummaging through your verse.

As a side, I had a few Fords; my last was reclaimed by the bank.

[Soren]

Thank you for the read Maria it is most appreciated. Yes scarecrows are an interesting archetype and Fords will become one some day if they stay around long enough. Thanks again for coming by