Interrogation
His eyes were glassy,
and his face looked like wet paint,
his lawyer called the police department
with a harassment complaint,
he knew he was innocent,
but he wasn’t a saint,
he felt the frustration
during the second interrogation,
he was in a mess,
and they just wanted him to confess,
he knew that the true rapist
was at large,
but what kept them there,
was an old rape charge,
that was then,
and they questioned him again
and again,
his patience grew short,
as they read the old report.
but they had nothing
that they could prove in court,
and that’s how it plays,
his capture fueled the media
for days and days,
but their case was weak,
and he chose not to speak,
his pulse was high and his heart
was beating fast,
and each interrogation
was more intense than the last,
there was simply no proof,
not a single sign,
but he didn’t try to decline,
he would just sit,
and took each interrogation hit,
but what he really wanted to say,
was take that badge and shove it.
© 2012 Frank Atanacio