It's ok, it's ok,
sung the mockingbird, monotonously, tirelessly,
dying down once in a while,
The thoughts that mock their creator
will surely die down,
The thoughts that surely mock
their creator,
will surely die down
I feel hated, but I don't care,
I feel lost, but I will sing,
I feel I need to replace a few
for someone new, but that's ok
Sleep dear, sleep dear,
Sung the mockingbird, hopefully, endearingly,
caressing me,
dying down after a while
These hands are strong,
but their will is far too feeble and weak,
we will solve this, we will fix this,
soon.
Arise, Arise,
Sung the mockingbird, hazily, bloodily, immortally,
screaming and piercing the way of light of the
world,
I slay that mockingbird,
waste it away to give ourselves peace,
I raise that mockingbird,
So I don't have to mouth an answer,
I raise that damned sweet bird,
but mostly only when I need time alone,
The pounding and dreading
of death,
a wanting emptiness of hope,
Solitary black hole in my being,
I raise it to be burned,
I put it to rest to be nurtured,
Sweet bird, can't you see?
Your mostly valuable now,
but soon you will fade.
There will be no fear, no loathing, no preservation opf
the idea that anxiety will hold me down,
That sweet innocent bird.

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1. Memories, For, When I Am. (Being edited 2024)
PoetryHi we're the Valkyrie System. These are a compilation of events, thoughts, thank yous, and emotions from early life and high school career. Everything is told through poems, unless its letters to someone I used to love. You can believe me, stand wit...