Lewis Raynes Poet Spoken Word

Broken: To the one that watched me burn

(Start with a cold, controlled anger. No apology in your voice.)

This one  
is for you.  
The institution.  
The system.  
The machine that grinds up truth  
and spits out paperwork.  

(Point directly outward.)

You knew.  
Don’t pretend you didn’t.  
Don’t hide behind your forms,  
your committees,  
your “process.”  
You knew exactly what she did.  
You knew the story was fantasy,  
fabrication,  
fiction dressed up as fact.  
And still—  
you let it swallow me whole.  

(Step forward, voice rising.)

You had her words.  
Her admissions.  
Her contradictions.  
Her recanting.  
You had the evidence she lied,  
catfished,  
deleted,  
invented.  
You had the truth in your hands—  
and you dropped it  
like it was inconvenient.  
Like it was heavy.  
Like it wasn’t my life.  

(Hit your chest with your fist.)

You knew I never touched her.  
You knew nothing happened.  
You knew the allegations came from books,  
from erotica,  
from dreams she couldn’t separate from reality.  
You knew.  
And still—  
you let the lie run free  
while you chained me to it.  

(Glare. Let the silence burn.)

You called me “trusted.”  
You called me “good.”  
You called me “supportive of isolated kids.”  
But when the storm hit,  
you didn’t stand beside me.  
You didn’t shield me.  
You didn’t even look at me.  
You just opened the door  
and let the mob in.  

(Spread your arms wide, mocking.)

You fired me.  
You isolated me.  
You shunned me.  
You erased me  
from the very place  
I gave my heart to.  
And for what?  
For a lie you already knew was a lie.  
For a story you knew was rotten.  
For a fantasy you let become my reality.  

(Voice sharp, cutting.)

You talk about duty of care.  
You talk about safeguarding.  
You talk about protecting students.  
But where was the duty of care  
for the teacher you knew was innocent?  
Where was the safeguarding  
for the man you watched get destroyed?  
Where was the protection  
for the victim who wasn’t convenient?  

(Lean forward, accusing.)

You didn’t fail me by accident.  
You failed me by choice.  
By silence.  
By cowardice.  
By letting fear outrank truth.  
By letting rumour outrun justice.  
By letting a lie  
become my legacy.  

(Raise your voice on “legacy.”)

And the worst part—  
the part that still burns—  
is that you knew.  
You knew I was innocent.  
You knew I was the one harmed.  
You knew the truth  
and you buried it  
under policy,  
procedure,  
and PR.  

(Pause. Let the anger simmer.)

So hear me now.  
This is not forgiveness.  
This is not closure.  
This is not me moving on.  
This is me naming you.  
Calling you out.  
Holding you accountable  
in the only courtroom  
you can’t silence—  
my voice.  

(Step forward, final blow.)

Because I was innocent.  
And you knew.  
And still—  
you let me fall.  

(End with stillness. No retreat. No softness.)

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment