Justice Not Served
Fighting for clear justice day by day,
The heart of the attorney is there to stay.
Each story is always in shades of gray
Today, tomorrow and yesterday.
It’s all a matter of rich and poor,
A fight for life, it’s understood.
Yet when the case comes to trial,
Law and fact are under denial.
It’s the defendant who feels the shame
The need for tears, the feeling for blame.
The attorney knows the truth like the land
And the hourglass of time fueled by sand.
The laws today may not be the same,
It always depends on the toss of the dice.
What is the will of the Court of Acclaim?
Who will now pay the highest price?
If justice is served once again
Will the length of the sentence really be fair?
Who is the victim and what is humane?
Does the merit of the court really care?
At the end of the long ride,
Who will prevail?
The one with the money bona fide.
Justice is served on a stacked scale.
The victim is still sorely unserved,
The winners with the money, undeserved.
The attorney who worked diligently felt worst of all
A tear hit the ground, echoed in the hall.
Justice is moot where it matters most
Benefactors of the world, why can’t we see?
Simple freedom can be a ghost
But this is not the land of the brave, the home of the free.
© 2014 Deb Hirt