Nor the last that I plan,
For there is something good about it,
It was still dawn when I found her
slightly sleepy yet alert.
I think she knew what was bound to happen,
yet I pray that she don´t.
I slowly focus my 9mm,
a little low from her bowed head.
Her eyes flickered a little when I sighed and pulled the trigger.
I hit her!
I hit her hard!
She fell from the branch she was sitting,
her body now lying on the ground.
When I was about to pick her up,
I was caught frozen at my place.
A chain was pulling me back,
holding me hard that I can´t breathe.
‘Stop the stupid storytelling,´ a man said.
‘Stop believing that you can make a change.´
The woods turned to walls,
The ground turned to cold granite floors,
And here I am again
lying on the floor,
staring at the broken mirror,
remembering each my unfortunate luck,
while the dead mockingbird stares back.