Complaints of a Scarecrow

I’m stuck in a muddy field,
I live all alone,
Without any friends,
Or a place to call home.

I’m battered and old,
I’m falling to pieces,
And the crows don’t help,
So it won’t be long until my job here ceases!

I cannot talk,
To voice my feelings,
My mouth is stitched,
And my outer cloth layer is peeling!

Please, someone save me,
From this dreary existence,
I feel so useless,
I need some assistance!

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