I've moved through the 
Chitter-chatter and it sounded 
Like one of those things 
That should've mattered.
I ignored the blatant reds 
And all that was said,
All for a human that seemed 
Righteous and utterly bold,
I was unflinchingly told 
Not to give ears to the feared
And too all those who meant dear.
I was blinded by the unsettling 
Festival of kites to have 
Unseen the unusual hawk;
There was no hide and seek 
But all clear and neat, so neat 
That I don't find the words,
The bird was never in 
My rule of thirds.