The Judge

He'd rather err freeing the guilty 
than err punishing the innocent.
Tonight he prays for divine guidance.
Must the accused to his death be sent?

Tomorrow, with a stroke of his pen,
someone will live or be doomed to die,
depending on how judiciously
he will filter the truth from the lie.

Use the letter of the law that kills?
Or invoke its spirit that gives life?
Neither deaf nor blind, nor indifferent,
Justice gives what's due to those in strife.

There'll be no trace of blood in his hands.
No, he won't be pontius-pilating.
He'll steer the wheel of retribution
away from shrewd manipulating.

Now his mind is more or less made up.
And so is his tender feather bed.
He'll snore and dream away the long night,
with truth and with justice in his head.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace