Trial

It seemed not awful
long ago
things were not
as bad as now.

I once walked these streets
and felt no shame.
Now they turn to see
He that they blame.

They see my eyes
cold dark and blue
but those eyes don't see
any of you

But why is it?
you ask.
Why do you hide yourself
beneath this mask?

The truth, my friend?
I'm afraid to say.
But it is because
they've sent me away

You see, the domino was not
toppled by me
But I was its target
and never freed

So the jury deliberates.
the plea is heard.
It is not acquittal.

---

Back to New Poetry.

---

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page