The Writer, the Fighter, and the Inciter

The Writer, the Fighter, and the Inciter
Scott David James
Circa 2012

Justice is a fickle place
Overrun by fools and fakes
A place where ink and circumstance
Are now the Devil’s tools

As once the courts were sensible
And Judges struck defensible
A democratic vestibule
Equal rich and poor

Emotion over evidence
Justice now a whore
It’s one extreme
And now the next

The next is next
The next is nexus nevermore
It’s only so can a levee go
Before it’s yoked beyond its load

And away we go
Justice flows
Flushed and falling from our toes

And no one knows more than i
That what’s supposed can’t transpose
Or make disguise

What lies are told
Such cold as throes
Tossed falsely on the coals

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This entry was posted in Animosity, Economy and Politics, Poetry, Prison Poems and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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