Mocking Bird
A mocking bird isn't hard to find.
But truly in it's own way one of a kind.
It spreads it's wings to touch the sky.
Till it lifts of till it is ready to fly.
Flying all day till it hears a tune.
To mimic every move.
It whistles the tune that was once played whistling in a slightly different way.
The sound so hollow.
But we too are a mocking bird.
Soon to follow.
👁 2💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.