The Paino Played, and So Did I

We are not welcome here... So fly away in your own little world, good riddance. I've had enough of bartering with pain for pain, and flowers, in praxis, exhaling the breathing of lies, to fill the room like a lawyer's stench, and 'Hear ye, Hear ye- I've got some news from my side of the bench', there's a cry of accusation: 'he lost a woman, that never loved him, barely knew her too', the prosecution stifles a laugh- "well that should make it all okay! Perhaps I can sugarcoat my disapproval with the loss of some precious ruby that I could have had, Ohhhhh the gem should've been mine, but I was too much of a coward to steal happiness, in pearls that were my eyes, cried out when I left home to work, and heard my father preach: How'd ya like them apples?" and I'm appalled, because I just wanted to write a ****ing poem... not stand trial to a sentence of the mind, against injustice, but what is just a poem that can never stand alone, or a man.