A Poem About Us...

Lawyers

You listen to me hearing only legalities
your words cut like a knife
giving little hope, no promises,
just the facts,
the precedents.
But first things first,
sign this contract,
'Yes, blood will be fine.'
I want every dime.

I wonder how you sleep at night,
representing whether wrong or right
you tell me it is everyone's
right for council, defense.
Your ethics require you to
represent your client
to the best of your ability.

I loved a lawyer once,
can't call him a man
because what he was first was his profession.
I though he was different
thought he had a heart, feelings
not like the rest of you sharks
I was wrong.

He used me, abused me
and because of the power of his esquire-ship
I became the victim
of injustice.
'Prove it,' they said.
Why do the innocent have to prove
innocence
while the guilty are so protected?

Who in Hell is there to protect me?
The Bill of Rights? Its meaning long since died.
I saw a young man get gunned down in
his prime,
the assailant got a year in prison.

The crooks in Washington steal our money,
make deals that destroy this country and the working class
all for their own profit. They don't go to jail.
Karma's gonna get you, promise.

© 1998-2005 by Margaret C.Rigsby