The Jury

The Jury is the Judge

even when the truth is there

Though everyone doesn’t like

the flavor

the pudding is eaten anyway

Who wrote the Book

that is always bound in Black?

So many prayers in print there

so many words to be taken


But, are they?

God is found there

when they need justification

Peace is found there

to satisfy the major-i-tee

Rope burns in the hands

of the lesser

numbered to stand for the strange

fruits of their forbidden tracks

Mocked and forced in the

pressure cooker

Tears drip as the steam overflows

The Jury speaks

But do they in unison

when only one bangs the gavel?

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