Gavel
You hold the wood in your hand
And
Wear the robes wrapped around your fragile human frame
You judge the living
And
The dead although your own breath is shallow
You read between these lines
And
Decide a life's works worth
The verdict
To convict or aquit
Hangs in the balance of the downward hammer swing
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
