What have you?

“What have you,

What have you?”

The mockingbird cried.

“Where's going?

Where's growing?”

He said with a sigh.

The creature flew out

over hill, tree, and vale.

He saw his friend woodpecker,

locked in his jail.

But who shall be fearful,

as radiant in his eye,

the creature soon looking down,

distrustful of disguise.

“What have you?

What have you?”

Said woodpecker true.

“Where going?

Where going?

Please, take me with you.”

The mockingbird ignored him

and swiftly flew away,

wondering to himself,

have I got it made?

The acid burned ground,

flew under him so fast,

he didn't touch the earth,

nor need to breath ash.

Then he heard owl,

a friend dressed in white.

The melting hot ooze

was holding him tight.

What have you?

What have you?

Owl asked rather loudly.

Who are you?

Who are you?
He struggled for nothing.

The mockingbird afforded,

this poor thing one glance,

but didn't look too long,

for he was in a trance.

The flood of the carbon

all went to his head

and soon as it started

the owl was dead.

Flew higher and higher

into the ashen sky,

the mockingbird laughed

as the moon caught his eye.

Its light reflected

in the center of his heart,

it'd been so long since they'd met

and mockingbird hated to be apart.

Of course he couldn't stay

this high for so long.

The air was too thin,

so down on and on.

As the creature came back

to his black and blue land

oceans thick like paint,

trees rot like man,

towers once majestic

now soft like so much noise,

everything down to one blade of grass

reduced to broken toys.

The mockingbird met one last thing

this one a robin

a hook caught in his wing.

“What say you?

What say you?

A tear fell from his eye.

His wings beat,

but could not beat

the thing keeping him from the sky.

The mockingbird took

sympathy on this wretch.

Unlike all the others

he rested for a stretch.

The mockingbird landed

on the ground by the robin

he unhooked the creature

and smiled-

“What have I?

What have I?

It's what you keep askin'.”

“You're free too now,

in the sky,

its mine and it's given.”

The robin understood,

as all of us do.

He spread his dainty wings,

and away he flew.

The mockingbird laughed

at the exhilaration he had wrought.

Maybe being good wasn't bad-

a lesson he had taught.

But one last trick played

on his miserable person.

The hook once hooked

had hooked another for certain.

The mockingbird screamed as he tried to break free-

wings bashing

wings crashing

but it wouldn't let it be.

He looked up at the robin,

flying into his tainted sky.

“What have you?

What have you?

You took away my sky.”