One christmas morning a long time ago, <br />I opened a present that I wanted so. <br /> <br />It was a daisy a real western gun, <br />I was delirious, what a barrel of fun. <br /> <br />I ran to the back yard and set up some cans, <br />It was a real gun I held in my hands, <br /> <br />I was proficient right from the start, <br />I shot all those cans straight through the heart. <br /> <br />But it became boring, to a young boy of eight, <br />And a bigger challenge, needed I on my plate. <br /> <br />So I walked through the woods pot-shooting at things, <br />I made so many birds take to their wings. <br /> <br />Till finally in a clearing I saw in a tree, <br />A mockingbird singing, looking at me. <br /> <br />I stepped up to the plate, and pointed my gun, <br />At the sweet singing bird it was only in fun. <br /> <br />I squeezed off a shot, and I saw the bird fall, <br />Straight to the ground like a batted curve ball. <br /> <br />I ran to the spot, and I looked at the bird, <br />That was looking at me though his heart had been burst. <br /> <br />I picked him up, and he died by that tree, <br />And I think he was saying what happened to me? <br /> <br />My soul filled then, with a sorrow so great, <br />And standing there crying my soul filled with hate, <br /> <br />Hate for the thing, I had just done, <br />By shooting that bird, with my new b.b. gun. <br /> <br />Hate for myself, for the sole sake of hate, <br />Because i'd taken a life that was not mine to take. <br /> <br />I think long ago I came to see, <br />That all creatures matter, to him that made me. <br /> <br />He is the one that gave us this gift, <br />And it's for him to take it, when he sees fit. <br /> <br />4/23/10 29 palms ca.<br /><br />Juan Olivarez<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-daisy-2/
