7th-Poetry

Your life was short, but rough You maintained so much frustration Holding your sadness must have been tough Although you kept it straight up You were accused falsely, and mistreated Came at you harshly, cruel and mean Your life has faded and been deleted Your presence wandering among us Your soul now at rest The greatness for your courage Shows you died as the best, you did all you could do Although you didn’t win, you lie there in your grave Innocence your only sin Your sole offense is a white woman’s lust. From the beginning, you could never win Because justice is anything but just. You spend your nights locked away in a cell While you and Atticus fight an insurmountable foe. You’re living your life in a black man’s hell. While the white man lets their hatred flow From their body, mind, and soul. You waited on justice for so long. Touch their hearts, and it would be cold You lost your faith and sang your swan song. The Grim Reaper found you, Tom, and he grinned, Protection is for white folks, and you have a darker skin.
 * Rest in peace, black, velvet Tom Robinson**
 * Innocence your only sin, **

**Twenty-five years of age you were, three children and a wife**
And he had to leave them to go to court,He did not know what would happen to his life, Just as Atticus brought order the court, Tom thought about his wife and his life, Just as he wondered why wasn’t this so short ,As Mr. Robinson was thinking of his wife, He was stuck in the middle of the court, Hoping his life wouldn’t end living the lowlife, Hoping he wouldn’t have to abort, The life of his loving family and wife, Only singing songs of pleasure.

Only singing songs of pleasure ** That you will never hear Seventeen shots later And your name is written on their tears A simple kiss on the cheek And a command you will regret Is what got you in this heap And a verdict they didn’t suspect Only the children saw The injustices of the courts They figured out ways to change the law But only could retort Tom Robinson you lost your sight To the mockingbird that lost your life
 * [[image:poem_picture.jpg width="165" height="122"]]



Filled with social strife Those who put you down Only help make this crown They accused, used and abused Never once did you have a short fuse With the help of Atticus, you made your stand But you were still forever bound Mutual munitions made us mourn Forever under that hateful scorn Professing putrid profanities of all kind Never once did it alter your state of mind As fond as a devil in hell Remember Tom who loved so well
 * Mockingbird who lost your life **

And from the courts decisions Tom was displaced No longer with his wife and children Tom Robinson’s grief struck in The jury stayed for hours at end Maycomb could soon take that “baby step” The jury stood in respect For Atticus Finch and how much he truly meant The inevitable verdict was waiting Although they all knew what truly happened And even with enough evidence What’s a black mans word against a white’s Just not enough Because a poor and lonely white girl dared to want one of his race…
 * On whose head the blame was placed… **

**Because a poor and lonely, white girl dared to want one of your race.** You were sent to trial, and to testify your innocence was all you could do. After all it was her daddy who beat and thought of her as a family disgrace If only she would have told the truth, but she didn’t have the slightest clue. Those white folks were so quick to mercilessly judge, All they cared was that you were black and she was white. Why did they have to keep such a profound grudge? They held it as if it were their grandfather’s pocket watch; they held it tight. On that horrid day the jury convicted you guilty, Even then it was "not time to worry yet." Those 12 men had a blind spot, and it saddens me to say it was the mere desire of acceptability. Though your hopes ran dry and your emotions too, for you were only black velvet. Tom Robinson was innocent but took all of the blame, If only you had waited, but then justice never came.

**

If only you had waited, but justice never came ,** Your trial made many upset, especially Dill. It was not your fault; Bob Ewell was to blame, Too bad the officer shot to kill. You left behind a wife, and a family of three, For just being in the wrong place at a bad time. Why couldn’t they just let Tom Robinson be? You were accused of a vicious crime. We all know of the trial, If only you could have stayed. If they let you make one dial. You probably would have got paid, “Good bye Tom Robinson” they say. Seventeen bullet holes in one single day. Never balanced were the scales

Never balanced were the scales ** He was doomed from the start As soon as Mayella opened her mouth Robinson would never win Against the word of a white man He lost in court on that day And lost his hope along the way Mr. Finch said they had a chance But Tom was scared He jumped the gun He wanted his chance He decided to run He was sick of their games Seventeen bullet holes that day



And why they had to shoot a Negro seventeen times, they can’t even say. Trying to fight a case because he accused of rape Knowing he ain’t gon win anyway. Wife and kids at home, now they all alone; Daddy's gone, now the life they knew is long gone. Hearing a guilty charge, oh wasn’t that hard. Trying to help someone again, backfired because of the color of his skin. Innocent is what he was, guilty is what they shouted; Now he's gone forever, and nothing could be done about it! He was a simple man who liked to give a helping hand; He never imagined he would end up in this place; He never imagined his life would end that way. "Only shoot at birds that do harm" are the words I hear today.
 * Seventeen bullet holes that day **



Trying to spread his wings out wide, Takes his chance with the prison guard. Test him, test him, he will try, It’s just a fence, Oh my oh my. He got so close then it hit… Seventeen holes went in and lit. He was close—only inches away, He wanted freedom just one more day. The noble T.R., __The__ Flightless Mockingbird, On his back for the whole world to see. Almost tasting the freedom, damn so close. No, but today is your day, so off you go. Rest in peace , black, velvet  Tom Robinson
 * Not the likes of Tom who couldn’t fly, so by the Prison Farm is laid. **




 * 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.