The Mockingbird

No sense can I make
Amidst all of the fake
Why we do what they say and we’re told

Oh what will it take
For the people to break
All the tape, all the glue, all the mold

Outside there’s a joke
That all the birds poke
At people who shout to be heard

They say they can’t think
Perhaps it’s instinct
To fit in like the old Mockingbird

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