'He is no more, Though he lays here on the meadow floor. 'I am a Bluebird, I symbolize endurance and joy, And although I am very near my destroy, I fall into my feeling of very merry cheer, So here I lay, and I do not have fear.' He continued right on, This time with only his own song. The Mockingbird opened his beak, took a huge breath. Hundreds of bird heads swiveled around, Over and about, towards the Mockingbird's sound. For just then came a song most heart-breaking, They all doubted, thinking someone was faking. All chirping, but their sounds went muffled. The Mockingbird swooped down from high on his perch, Down from the tallest, strongest White Birch.

The tear of the brave, the merry, the light. 'I am a Bluebird, I symbolize endurance and joy, And although I am very near my destroy, I fall into my feeling of very merry cheer, So here I lay, and I do not have fear.' And at this last word, the Bluebird closed his eyes, And escaped from them one single tear. Then the birds, despite the mood and the weather, Stick to their motto, 'Birds stick together.' They fly to the ground, a colorful sight, To hear the Bluebird's last song he sings with his might. Falls, spiraling down, Until, thunk, he softly hits the ground. Until like a knife the bullet cuts through the air, And the Bluebird sings his last fanfare. Piercing and chilling is the Mocking Bird's first song, Until hundreds of other birds join the throng Shrilling and Singing their songs attract my gaze, All of the birds, each and every one, can amaze.

Softly sings the donkey poem