The Mockingbird calls the shots
While politicking puerile plots
The blood it coagulates and clots
And History memory forgot.
Tears pour down Sorrow’s cheek
Hope cries out bruised and bleak
A universal losing streak
Would you want this Earth if you were meek?
The sense of loss from Zeitgeist’s grief
Innocents incur broke belief
Future frowns at Tomorrow’s thief
While pulling teeth for pure relief.
