The Trial

April 7, 2008
By Chelsea Ross, Johnson City, TN

Society sat
Pompous and tall
An old judge
Power happy
In his undeserved box
And from behind
Cold, cruel eyes
He scrutinized
The multitudes of defendants
Although defendants
They could hardly
Be called
For none was allowed
A pitiful utterance
Of explanation or denial
Or plea for mercy
Against the gruff
Omnipotent decree
Of their fate
That fell like bombs
Over the limitless courtroom
But they were forced
To march in shackles
To the waiting gallows
Some hung their heads
Others kept them up high
Some struggled and fought
While others just sighed

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