4th-Poetry

At least we all knew you were innocent within yet we stuck with tradition sentenced to death upon false acquisition why is it that children can see what adults cannot a child's soul not yet bought by corruption but is purity the thing most lose as they grow older we all carry a devil on our shoulder but where is the angel on the other perhaps it will come a day or another but for now we shall fight the sin Protection is for white folks, and you've got darker skin
 * Innocence your only sin **

Due to a crime full of lies Three children and a wife left behind Oh, what your life could have been like Soft skin, black as night Seventeen bullets ended his life Even though it wasnt right If only the guards knew The agony he had gone through Mockingbird your song of truth Just wasnt loud enough to save you So sad the blame had to be placed On an innocent soul of a different race Remember Tom who loved so well Unfortunately you were taken too early in the game Thanks to your pale faced peers the caged bird sings At least the bird would sing if the death bell didn’t ring Your twenty-five year span ended too soon That hot summer day in that Alabama courtroom Now you’ll be judged fairly in the clouds above That known by all the people you love Your case began to pave the way For a freedom that will be experienced one day The people who did this to you will be forever wrong Karma will get them in the run of long At the time justice had failed Never balanced were the scales
 * Mockingbird who lost your life **
 * If only you had waited, but then justice never came **

Discrimination at its finest. The sight of the white man, he bails. Knowing, that he could never escape jail. Segregation, by the color of skin, A race with no fair chance. Like messengers of sin, there is no guilt. Each life, a patch. They were nothing but a quilt. A quilt in which i will never pull over my head. ** Unlike some who will go mislead. A specific kind, like pray. //S//eventeen bullet holes that day. **
 * //N //****ever balanced were the scales ****
 * My eyes will forever see.



An overkill some might say But in the south that does not matter Because if you're white you're at the top of the ladder. Alas, that's just another day. White verses black, a sick relay. For it was not fair for him to sit in jail. He felt it necessary to bail. No longer did he want to obey. He decided to make a getaway. He climbed over the barbed wire. Perhaps, he would have made it, if it wasn't for his crippled attire. For he did not get away. “Only shoot at birds that do us harm,” are the words I hear today.
 * Seventeen bullet holes that day **

Shot down by discrimination and words of hate those who are innocent can’t make it through the day, Yet the blame falls on one who caused no harm. Word against word not enough evidence to prove you wrong. Although unfair, in the end you were to blame. Not a word could be said to change their mind Leaving you no choice a lie you made an end to your life. Unable to defend yourself against such strong hate, You gave your life knowing you did no wrong. A lie left you trapped behind fences and bars Who could imagine the strength needed to go on? The birds who could fly would find the strength to move on Not the likes of Tom who couldn’t fly, so by the Prison Farm is laid.
 * “Only shoot at birds that do us harm,” are the words I hear today. **


 * R ** est in peace, black, velvet Tom Robinson,
 * I ** nnocence your only sin,
 * P ** rotection is for white folks, and you’ve got a darker skin.


 * T ** wenty-five years of age you were, three children and a wife,
 * O ** nly singing songs of pleasure,
 * M ** ockingbird who lost your life.

“ ** O ** nly shoot at birds that do us harm,” are the words I hear today,
 * R ** emember Tom who loved so well,
 * O ** n whose head the blame was placed
 * B ** ecause a poor and lonely, white girl dared to want one of his race.
 * I ** f only you had waited, but then justice never came,
 * N ** ever balanced were the scales,
 * S ** eventeen bullet holes that day.
 * N ** ot the likes of Tom who couldn’t fly, so by the Prison Farm is laid.