Mockingbird Poem by Adelina Amare

It's a sin to kill a mockingbird,
For they do nothing but sing their hearts out for us to hear.
Some blind men trapped a mockingbird, and he sang the song of hope,
Hope that everything would soon become clear.
Yet no one could look past the color of his wings.
No one cared to listen to his voice.
So they trapped him in a little cage.
They should have known they were making a sinful choice.

All the mockingbird wished to do was beat his wings against the sky
And sing his freedom song loud enough to be heard by all,
But seventeen bullets hit him.
His wings stopped their hopeful flutter, and he began to fall.
Now he lies broken on the ground
For being honest and kind.
How the sinister souls cheer tonight.
They cannot tell that they are blind.

He deserved the sky, and he deserved to sing.
He had just begun his journey called life.
Those blind men can never be forgiven for what they had done
On that final August night.

All the other mockingbirds came together that night
And sang their mournful song,
Lamenting the loss of a kind heart.
In our souls he lives on.