Courtroom

The jury sits stoic and pensive with unwavering eyes
Set upon me like a lock on prey
Persecution for the crime of being small
Groundless accusation I have yet to discern
Though it seems the world has already done so
I am by fault a timid being
Created, it seems, by a mind set on juxtaposition
I am neither here nor there
Neither bright nor shadow
I stand with shaking knees
Sit with shaking hands
Interrogated for moments or hours
I’ve been forced to shrink
Forced to fold into myself,
But I am the one standing before a judge
The verdict readies itself to change a life
I receive my sentence with salted, glass eyes
Doomed to life without a chance

-s.grace
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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November 27, 2023 at 8:45 AM
This is so unfair when it happens.. i can feel the despair and fear in your words.. expressed so well..
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November 27, 2023 at 2:42 AM
Open to interpretation. I interpret it as life without a chance and the world is the prison, no bars. (the crime of being small) Probably wrong but thats the way I see it. Nicely penned.
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