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A poem about the mocking bird. |
| The mocking bird sits high on his perch, gazing in sadistic glee, while his prey deems to search to find his mockery. But the mocking bird befuddles them at every twist and turn. His playful tease they will condemn in hopes that he will burn. That baleful bird sits high above reach, unconcerned with their query. While they rage and preach his flaws, the bird is almost cheery. Their brittle hatred bears no threat to one as knowing as he. There is no need for him to fret he has already attained his victory. |