The Poem of Mockingbird

"Social, social, why are zombies so new?

Tell me, young corpse, what's been bothering you?

Go party, and fall, right flat on your face,

Tell me, young man, why don't you know your place?

Losers, that commit, to nefarious woes,

Like covering up wrinkles, when one smells their clothes...

Poor, wretched, and scowling, with an ominous air,

Why not admit you are simple,and that you are there?

People so low, they pretend to be mean,

ruling, sarcastic, with an ominous glean...

Why not be a Scion, and without a doubt,

we can rule this universe, he's been talking about!"