death of tom robinson
...m He always had to work hard To support insults without reply It was his way, ruled by his skin And by a world of intolerance By a world that became mad Incarnation of honesty, Of kindness, of loyalty His murderers left him no chance With no regrets they shoot him down They killed him as he was a dog In their brain that’s what he was A lot of people supported him His family, his community No chance they had the same problem A colour that is seen as not the good one All of them cried for him, for this man That hadn’t been considered a man Tom, A whisper for eternity quality is better than quantity to kill a mockingbird...