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When Will Florida Address The Fact That Some Prisoners Never Received Fair Trials
In courts where lies weave their tails,
And justice seems a distant dream,
There lies the fate of souls confined,
By trials flawed and justice blind.
Florida, hear their muted cries,
Beneath the endless, azure skies,
Restore the truth, make wrongs undone,
Illuminate their moonless sun.
A second glance, a careful eye,
To see what justice might belie,
Review each case with earnest heart,
For fairness is a noble art.
For those who've suffered unjust pain,
Let fairness fall like cleansing rain,
And from these cells, set free the right,
To walk in liberty's pure blinding light.
Copyright ©
James Mclain
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