The Hung Jury

When he entered the world 
They started him off with
Non-negotaible funding
For a sacrilegious plea.
After all,
He'd been through a lot.
Enough to know what
Was good for him.
When he waited for
His turn to reply
Instead of listening
To their speech
He noticed a fellow
Jury member
Nugging at his knee.
What oracle 
In all her honesty
Could foresee 
What they would
Channel unto his
Sun soaked brow?
His wife's plush face
Contorted in 
An anthrax laced expression
That deadened the nerves in his smile.
She knew.
History became a myth to her.
Now all he was 
Was a drifter
Only seemingly beautiful to
Awkward girls just above
Smiling but
Always below turning to dust.
He reached inside their 
Far fetched frowns and
Drew back the staggered snarling
Teeth
Of the beast that
Bid him goodnight.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2006

Poem

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