Concrete below my shoes,

steel around my wrists.

They lock the shackles on my feet

check that I’m on the list.

They rush me down the corridor,

small steps that I must take.

They crush me into a mirrored van

shoved next to my fellow inmate.

They drive me out of a tunnel,

fresh into a bright sunshine.

My eyes are used to months of dark,

my sight, for a second, blind.

For minutes we see real world,

fellow beings about their chore.

They do not know what we’re up against

or what we have instore.

We reach our fates destination

into a box we go.

They leave the steel around our limbs,

and time it moves so slow.

A click, I hear the deadbolt.

a man is standing there.

“I am the lawyer holding your time,

but 2 minutes is all I can spare.

Into an elevator,

‘put your face against the wall’.

Up we go into another box.

Slam the door and click the locks.

I see the door come open,

the baliff calls my name.

I slink my way into the court,

to accept or reject the blame.

My attorney who knows nothing

about my life to date.

The DA sitting, the judge above,

together they hold my fate.

My hope to all that find themselves

in court to face a charge,

that in their wallet they might find

ten thousand dollars large.

If not, I hope you remember,

when ‘JUSTICE’ catches you.

that money talks and fairness walks

far away from you.

____________Steve Bolton May 09