At my trial

At my trial I'll sit

watching my fate become clear,

I'll interject when

they have an aspect incorrect,

whenever the detail is unclear.

Will I be hung on my words?

Or when all is said and done

was I just a victim of life's circumspect tides?

The worst I did was neglect

the high-water signs.

 

At my trial they will listen,

they will see how it

all appeared to me.

Was something leaving

a blind spot at all times?

or did I choose to follow a line,

taking it to too many high spots?

not protecting the soul of mine.

Did I neglect my own worth,

thinking it was just words spoken

to make the end feel nice?

Yes. Was this a crime?

Only the judge’s

hammer hand has a clue

 

At my trial there

will be no witnesses.

No jury,

Just the judges.

There will be no one to speak

on my behalf,

no prosecution or defence,

to take my story and smear,

or clear my name.

Just me,

trying to take my pieces

and make a little more sense.

 

At my trial.

Will I be given eternity and a day?

For wanting love to flower the fields of pain.

And make the colour wash away the grey.

Or will I be promised hope,

and down upon me it shall rain.

 

 

 

Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
https://linktr.ee/Wordsandfluff

 
You can find my New books
"Tales from the 44A" and "Stations
here
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DBKXPN13/
and here

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0DFV8N7XH

 

Please buy a copy if you can

it would really help me
continue to do this.

Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle