Rough JusticeThe cop who testified against you lied.
The DA knows he did, but this is
An election year, and crossing cops
And losing cases lead to failure
At the polls. The judge who heard
Your case was bored. He knows your
Sort and found you guilty on account
Of who you are. You're off to jail.
They're home for dinner. When yours
Comes, served on a tray, be sure to bow
Your head and thank your lucky stars
You live within a nation which adheres
To laws, and not the prejudices
And the payments passing under tables
Which pervert judicial systems
In barbaric lands.
Poetry by Lawrence Beck
Read 13 times
Written on 2020-07-01 at 00:54
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