She was a morning bird upon waking.
The most beautiful songs were sung
form her luscious soft lips.
You had never quite heard
songs such as this
She's a mockingbird
Repeating the worlds distress
Uncovering the ugliness
of life's unrest
Coping with the world was a
concept she couldn't quite grasp
All the loveliness that once
filled her chest
Turned to ash and dust
The morning bird and
the mockingbird were
two creatures she knew best
Now flying high above the trees
without purpose or direction
Fluttering those little wings
Until she found a place to build
her nest.
© 2014 Christina Jackson