The Justice of the Crossroads

They've hung on him a For sale tag He's wearing a stale old plastic bag And the rest of him is in rags The whole world passes by him Stops and stares, or points at whim Mad Marley stands there everyday Without a job without the pay He knew no place but where he stood On that busy trafficked crossing road He was waiting for something to happen there Perhaps the justice that the judges couldn't spare Of some long forgotten clash of cars That had claimed his life and all its hours So there he stood all the time As the crowd of cars grew in line Then one day, a day like any other He saw a car hit another And out fell a man, the man with the scar Who had killed his wife and children with his car A drop of blood trickled down the man's nose Mirroring Mad Marley's teardrops as he rose He removed his for sale tag and plastic bag Took out the bullet that, for these 18 years he had, had And the rusted barrel of the gun He had sworn he would use to avenge his son Mad Marley fell on the pavement alone and dead With the bullet lodged inside his head