Mockingbird stuck in life’s twisted scheme.
Your wings do not open; but you’re allowed to dream.
Created for flying, and yet you cannot budge.
Yet the mockingbird’s heart does not hold a grudge.
Wings attached to your body, its God’s little tease.
You can’t feed yourself, but you do as you please.
Hop to find seeds, search to survive.
A bird without wings shouldn’t be alive.
The sky is the limit, but its mind travels farther.
To die for its dreams, this bird will become a martyr.
It knows it was built to fly, so it’ll continue to wait.
Yet the mockingbird sings for the arrival of its fate.
For God's crafted joke to end, and his laughter to die.
For all the mockingbird desires is to claim the sky.
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