I saw a mocking bird upon a tree
alone, chirping a tune
the skill of imitation bore he
as it sang amid the gloom.
...
In the grip of pain I find myself
the victim of endless lies
always pondering certainty of death
with no peace of mind.
...
Follow me in the footsteps of an addict
to the streets of crack haven avenue
tortured souls falling blind, erratic
looking through mirrors of glass tubes.
...
Her beauty was captivating
sweet of heart, flustered
within shades of hazel
searching still luster.
...
Swallowed in dreams of bliss
and sunset berry kisses
in the still of azure skies
I gaze into your eyes.
...
I Saw A Mocking Bird
I saw a mocking bird upon a tree
alone, chirping a tune
the skill of imitation bore he
as it sang amid the gloom.
Children played among the fields
adults conversed freely,
but of the bird in the broken still
faces thought him silly.
O beautiful composer of the skies
your deep music is superb
but can never be fully realized
the song of a mocking bird.