Shaken from the wooden sound,
Of the gavel coming down,
To finalize what he just said,
A sentence hangs above my head...
One I reach and try to grab,
Making room for one more slab,
The chains that bound me wrist to waist,
Pains what found me in such haste...
Who can I blame but myself,
When every sinner fed my wealth,
For a time...
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