Anyone who is very close to me, knows my take on reincarnation and how I believe we will all be living many life's and some more then others.  Brought back to Earth to relive our mistakes until we have perfected our human being.
There is a strong believe that I lived in the Victorian Era as a Prostitute and living in jolly old England.
I decided to write a poem about a beautiful young women who's life was taken all too soon!!!!
She was a lady of the evening who lived in the slums of England, but each night she would venture into the better part of town to meet her men.

I hope you enjoy my poem "Why Did't I NotListen to the Crow".

Why Did I Not Listen to the Crow

The crow’s raucous voice heard numerous times

On this night there was an air of apprehension

A warning is told, but only if you are tuned to natures heed!

It was the 1800’s living as a prostitute was a dream or nightmare

Live was not a picnic

Girl of young years uneducated and pretty

What else do I know what to do but to screw very well!

Watching mama and papa all these years

Brought to my young mind this is the way of life!

So here I am, a Victorian woman of the eve

Crossing this bridge became a way of life

Countless times brings into a world of countless dreams

It is five o’clock in morning

The old wives called it the dying of a crow

An explanation can’t be understood

Tiny hairs on arms are erect as familiar penis

The heart pleads not to enter

I drip with most fragrant desire

Just why not one more time!

This has been heard too many times in my head

A night of ecstasy

Shillings fill my pocket

I dream of the market with all its goodies

Crossing over going back home

Legs unsteady ,because door was left open too many times

There is a crow, but not just some crow

Can’t explain the feeling, I felt tonight

He kept screaming something about a man called Jack

Could it be a vision of love tonight?

If only I would have listened more carefully!

Suddenly the air becomes thicker then the fog

Feelings of vomit fill the mouth

I am scared!

Approaching is a gentleman of a lovely air

Convincing myself that is all that is there

We cross each other’s path as he tilts top hat

Batting my eyes ; feel the moisture once again between legs

He stops and the tingle continues

There is something shiny glinting in the dark

A coin for thy?

Oh how smitten I deem

He put his arms around

Feeling his hardness, a smile becomes a part of me

Suddenly feeling faint; wetness, but not of the womanly type

Again, and again he stabs at me

A more sickening sound I have not heard!

It was a knife that shined!

Oh why couldn’t I see!

He cut out my heart and my last breath

Why did I not listen to the crow that night?

He kept screaming “Jack will come to you tonight”!

Stupid me, stupid me!!!