YOUR SCARECROW

A series of painful mid-noon

Passed away…

Still I stand there below the open sky.

Protect your paddy crops and

Many of your lost lands.

Laughing like before

As you wish

Inside a black hemisphere.

Heading with a painted clay pot,

Standing there,

Year after year,

Never tired never died

You can use or

You can throw

Because I am your scarecrow

Never tired never died.

Standing there,

Year after year.