Through the Crow's Eyes..

The crow does fly,
Above a villager's sky.
It does sense grief,
Finding pleasure amiss.
It hears whispers,
About neglected roads.
It watches the tap,
Corroded in water's absence.
The children play in dirt,
Not minding it one bit.
It hopes for their schooling,
For its above their act of treat.
The efforts of the farmer,
Who struggles from day to night.
With no funding for him,
He loses hope rapidly in fright.
The crow does fly,
Above a villager's sky.
It sheds many tears of worth,
Knowing what sun will bring forth.