Injustice Kills the Mockingbirds

Words were said,

And now he's dead.

Against him many still speak,

The sounds we heard, the truth we seek.

Malice, anger, hatred and more,

All profound beyond that door.

The wilted flowers end,

The sins we cannot mend.

Lies we cannot stop,

Wiped away with a tainted mop,

They are unseen to most,

Gone, quickly lost in the post,

Forgotten, it's the usual,

Here, many are considered 'unusual'.

Here the soft are hardened,

This dreadful town is burdened.

By the fearful corruption,

And wrongful assumption,

All around,

In the ground,

In the air,

Even at the street fair.

No longer beyond just that door,

Not one, not two, not three, not four,

Many more indeed,

The injustice may never impede.

Words are said eye to eye,

Then,

The mockingbirds die.