The Gavel
with a black robe and a bad heart...with eyes that see evil and ears that hear lies
viewing the world like a dying disease
like the beggar on his knees with dirty hands stretched out
i grab the gavel...and judge him to his death
carjacks and soul smacks...billions on their bellies and backs gettin crunched and cracked
like rats and roaches...robbing banks and million dollar stage coaches
fools roasting in the heat with nothing to lose...singing the blues
paying the devil his over priced dues
shiny and bright turns blackened and blue
taxin the poor...poverty turns into a criminal
his mom weeps and wails with disgust and dread
i grab the gavel...and judge him to his death
teen age mother sittin on skid row...nothing to do and nowhere to go
victim of violence...she turns to a pimp
just like a pharoh he makes her a slave
another trick in a trap...her soul snaps and tears hit the floor
gangster ghouls they kick in the door
raped and murdered in a pool of blood and sweat
i grab the gavel...and judge her to her death
judge not lest ye be judged...still i hold that gruesome grudge
hard hearted like a boulder that nobody can budge
God gives me a nudge and he shows me the truth...because nobody's perfect and nothing is new
i look deep inside to the dirtiest depths
i grab the gavel...and judge myself to death
Copyright © Anthony Beesley | Year Posted 2010
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