Carryon Crows, Carryon Poem by Nathan Beery

Up above, looking down
And watching all 'round

With gleaming eyes
And heartless sighs

One does carryon,
Like the black-feathered carrion

Waiting patiently for the next meal,
Half ready to make a kill-

One does live like a carrion-
And in life that is how we carryon,

Greedily waiting for the meat,
With every death we greet...

With some semblance of sorrow-
Hidden behind the greedy thoughts that follow...

Yes, in life we humans, carrion,
Live, just as we carryon...

And then there's I, no better still-
Not wanting for much, but anxiously ready to see the kill...

Never wanting, always waiting-
To see how humanity has shaken'

From our petty morals and heartfelt belief-
That makes us better than some petty theif...

I, only seek to observe,
While, I could easily act to help and serve...

And so I, unacting carryon...
Simply watching as the carrion carryon-