Who is that solemnly sitting upon my windowsill

With lengthy beak and beady eye, it sits there still

I know not if this creature arrived as friend or a foe

Watching expectantly as if his errand I should know

I struggle to ignore that little, glassy, beady eyed stare

But every little twitch I make I feel his beady eyes aglow

Please stop staring, don’t you know that it’s quite rude

And if I’m being honest, I find your behavior terribly crude

Coming uninvited to my home to simply perch and stare

Thinking that I would merely accept it, that I would not care

That your judgmental eye lay upon me like a deathly shadow

Stretch your wings you menace; I declare it time for you to go

If you dare to defy me, dare to darken my open window frame

Then have enough decency to speak and reveal your name

I issue one last warning; shall it be friend or be the broom

Continue this ridicules charade and be batted from this room

Muted bird now turns setting both beady eyes upon my face

And across my sill he begins his slow and awkward pace

It’s beak cracks open as if to finally make some just reply

But what issues forth is one morbid, strangled, and ghastly cry

Then turns about with one last knowing glance before he flies

Those beady eyes harbor secrets to tell yet to me he denies