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Mockingbird

Look there, just over yonder, Nestled warm in douglas firr, Singing softly to the morning, A gentle mockingbird. Cheery-up, oh cheery-up, Trilla-weet, trilla weet, Such a tender song, From yonder songbird, sweet. It is this song that wakes you, From slumber’s warm embrace, And makes you wary of the morning, And the sunlight on your face. But what a pleasant dream, You did not want to wake, How dare this tiny bird, Your warm illusion, break? And why should he feel happy, With only dirt to call his own, When you, who own the world, Are left feeling so alone? In your groggy, sleepy state, Into bedside drawer you reach, To pull a gun with empty chambers, And slide a bullet into each. One single trigger pull, One solitary bang, To stop the dreadful singing Yet still you shoot again. Six times you pull the trigger, Only once the songbird cries, You smirk in satisfaction, And watch, complacent, as it dies. Your wit is unsurpassed, Oh how cunning, look how smart, You’ve killed a foolish songbird, You’ve stilled its useless heart. Your pride quite soon subsides, And your ringing ears fall quiet, You find the cheery song replaced, With a painful, crushing silence. Pounding hard behind your eyes, Screaming in your head, The only one who could have saved you, The mockingbird, is dead Look there, just over yonder, Engulfed in silence, cold, Stands a crying, lonely fool, Who killed a mockingbird.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




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Date: 5/1/2020 12:23:00 AM
An interesting poem. It has very vivid imagery good rhyme and a nice beat. It is not iambic pentameter though. Iambic pentameter is when you have 10 syllable per line with a soft hard beat. Most sonnets are written in iambic pentameter.
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