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Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Quiet Are The Mockingbirds

Quiet are the mockingbirds.
Stopping their mocking,
Of others with appearances...
Different from theirs.
To come as a flock,
Repeating to peep about...
While listening from fences,
Creating divisions.
And their own defenses.

Once quick to tweet,
And flutter to be seen.
Just for the attention,
With a mocking done...
To clearly demean.

No one knows why they chose,
Here to mock.
And start commotion.
No one knows why they chose,
Here to spread innuendos.
And malicious gossip,
To spew and drop...
From their lieing to divide,
Mocking mouths.

Their intentions to offend.
Began to backfire on them.
Those mocked did not like it.
Or tolerate this,
As their ancestors had...
From centuries passed.
Quieting the mocking.
As all with differences,
Came to gather together.
In a display...
Of multiple colors.
Adorning an array...
Of proud to wear feathers.

Quiet are the mockingbirds.
Defenseless.
Abandoning fences made.
Quiet are the mockingbirds.
Making attempts to mend,
Senseless divisions...
They alone created.
To humiliate and intimidate,
Those they determined...
Were complicit and placated.
Quiet are these mockingbirds...
Knowing today they face,
A life to live more complicated
And those of differences,
Are not so easily chased.
By others disapproving...
Of their physical appearances.
To quickly dismiss,
With intimidated humiliation.
Long to have become accustomed,
As to why this is done.
And the useless foolishness,
Of it.
Lawrence S. Pertillar
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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