Not Guilty

I swear it was his fault Your Honor So put him in his place He was trying to break my knuckles By hitting them with his face Of course I wouldn't hurt him I would not commit no crimes You see, he kept falling on my knife Yes, Your Honor, forty seven times No I didn't rob the post office They're just trying to ruin my day I don't have cash to pay my fine Will postage stamps be okay He's lying again, Your Honor Trying to throw my life into despair Even though my prints were on his throat I wasn't even there This poem is dedicated to the liberal morons this country has appointed to the courts. The sad part is, the parties in these fictional statements would probably be found Not Guilty by today's judicial standards. A salute to the vigilantes out there who actually protect the victim.