short poems

the scales that lady justice hold
are easily tipped with the wieght of gold
the turth is lost and lies are told
anything can be bought and sold

Author's Notes/Comments: 

this poem is aboutr my parents evil money changing the outcome of guardianship of my children

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Who is this One?


Who do we complain?
Ripped apart
Who do we seek justice?
Awfully wronged
Who do we want to disclose?
A broken heart
Surely not to a Frightful
Who plant terror in every sphere!
In our dutiful lives
Man is man’s best friend
Then who is the terrorist lurking
In odd corners or smug under cover
Waiting to pounce on us
Our understanding nonplussed!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Our understanding nonplussed!

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