My days are numbered now,
Since I married the greedy sow.
She thought it was funny,
Spending all of my money,
I'm back where I started,some how.
She took me off to court,
Fair trial,I hoped,I thought.
But not on your nelly,
It's not like the telly.
She's taken everything I bought.
Everything will work out just fine,
Leaving a CD, thinking it was mine.
She's taken the deep freeze,
Even my pound block of fresh cheese,
I'm sure what she's doing is a crime.
At least we're on speaking terms,
My new flat is clean, without germs.
But I got the last laugh.
Fresh water,in a clean bath,
And get to keep all the money I earn.
How proud they put them on display
Two thousand of the first of fortyk
There President Bukele did say
They’ll live in the jailhouse for decades
he went on boasting, in jail it’s judgement day,
as he held his glass of brandy toasting
inmates, suspected violent gang members
moved to a new mega-prison in El Salvador
Transferred to the Center of Confinement of Terrorism
Mixed up, unable to do any more harm
to the population, it was said
So why do I care about these souls,
tears flowed as I read the article
about thousands of prisoners, and Bukele in particular
Central American country’s notorious pandillas
And right then I understood why I cried
Hundreds never made it to round two, que pesadillas
There are the innocent ones who are denied
a fair trial, it's sad to think that nothing can be done
for a mother's innocent son
I believe I don't know my beliefs.
Not even to believe in beliefs.
I'd just sit and pretend and pretend...
Watch the world move in incomplete circles.
And my final report for this reality:
Existence didn't give us a fair trial.
He was a straight-laced lawman,
who went strictly by the book
Before he took any criminal gunsmoke down,
he would give them
his best Marshall Dillon righteous look
Said he would always give them a fair trial
Just one of the rules his daddy lawman taught him
He could still hear the words
echoing from yesteryear ...
no matter how many bullets he took:
A good cop is always obligated
to try to save a crook
His granddaddy said it was the humane thing to do
He was a fourth generation tin star,
a badge of honor held in high esteem
by his family
Many a county folk said,
he was the best lawman to come down the line
Had the fastest gun
this side of great grand’s lightning moonshine
And with the coming sunset legacy,
he heard all the retirement tales —
Even the fastest draw
has to slow down at some point,
and rest a spell
So he patted his son on the back,
and passed the Colt 45 revolver baton
The fifth finger on the hand,
raised rightly
to be the next family lawman
The clear, sweet evil of that simple name,
so redolent of sweaty viciousness,
of Spite is Right, of sin divorced from blame,
of seedy placemen, bloated with success,
did not fit with his flinty newsreel face.
This quarry, tracked down by a newer gang,
the old, tired formula once more in place,
would get a just, fair trial - and then he'd hang.
They showed him film of Auschwitz-Birkenau.
On all the panels of his glassy dock
the thin ghosts grinned, like Death's Heads, come to mock.
Who can feel pity for six million shades?
Yet one lone man (a worthless one, allowed)
hemmed in by death, still harrows and degrades.
I thought as hard as I could
Of how I would my first poem begin
But this I knew
That once I put my pen to paper
Then I could write a full book
So I started to write
With my eyes moving from left to right
And a lot running through my mind
People will hate it
While some others, it will change their lives
But this again I knew
That behind the best lines are worst words too
I hope it would be given a fair trial
My heart couldn't hope for any better
And at the end, you would say
How I love to read this poem again
***
Beacon of liberty stunningly original
Integrity unbending
…. genuinely formidable
Courageousness clamoring and Brave
Poised intricately…
to protect and save
Untailored impetuous spirit thrives
Inside hiding Many…
burdened lives
Never forgiving nor merciful to sin
Always a fair trial
…. before judgment comes in
Cantering an unstoppable Flawlessness
Altruistic in setting
…. faithful lawfulness
Do not bequeath your liberties ashore
Impenetrable stone…
stands forever more
Marvel your life story to the world once or thrice
Generations of healers…
Mentor’s heed advice
stand tall in your truth…never back down
justice is blind…
…yet it always sleeps sound~
***
Who gave this world the right to judge me?
Everywhere I look, all I see is the jury,
But I'm not getting a fair trial.
Before I've even left my house,
you've hung, drawn and quartered me.
If I wear this I'm 'ghetto',
If I wear that I'm 'uppity'
I speak Ebonics & I'm a 'thug',
I speak English and I'm a 'washout'.
My own people only hear my voice,
The others only see my skin.
When did they replace god?
Last time I prayed, he was still there.
If he isn't, someone, please let me know,
Put me out of my misery.
Why do we hate so much,
When this prejudice only destroys us.
If some people looked in the mirror,
They would realise they don't like what they see.
Who decides what I am,
How do you define me?
You don't,
I define myself.
I am not a colour, creed, nationality,
I am me.
When I look in the mirror, I like what I see,
If that isn't the case for you…
Well, don't take it out on me
By Mon
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