To Kill a Mockingbird

Simple songs of a mockingbird,
Sweetly float throughout the morn,
Like the happiness of children at play,
For with pure innocence their wings adorn.

The child too early is made to learn
That life isn't always simplicity.
Ruined and broken is the mockingbird
So it will fall from the height of its tree.

To kill a mockingbird,
Holds the cost of sins to pay
Sins that are denied and feared
Until the innocence is new and dark is day.

The destruction of pureness in this creature,
The deafening echoes of silence heard,
And the innocence of a childhood lost,
All fly on the wings of a mockingbird