And that was that,
trial and judgement complete.
They decided
I wasn’t making a valid contribution to society,
so they censured me
(apparently I was too bad to be merely censored).
They locked me away,
for the masses’ safety.
…
Contrast,
the celebrated
the appreciated,
like the baker
who makes the cake
that kills your grandmother,
and the woodworker
whose makeshift efforts creak and crumble,
time,
time,
time.
…
Poxy insidious,
invidious
injustice.
©ddr7hd
…
