Fine little iron lines, locked up, no sunshine.
That's how people live in that big white building you pass, With your infinite luxury and constant growing money trees.
That's how people live behind those fine little iron lines you always seem to oversee.
Innocent people rotting where they aint supposed to be. Killers walking through the streets feeling ever so free.
Is that really how police are gonna be? Putting the wrong people behind bars and feeling too much glee?
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Author:
Seybsdatroller (
Offline) - Published: May 25th, 2025 22:20
- Comment from author about the poem: This poem is about justice for people who are wrongfully institutionalized and i want to be a criminal defense lawyer like Leslie Abrahams so its important to me.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Licence
Offline)
Comments2
A poem increasingly relevant in today's society, with injustices happening across the world, nicely expressed and written
Thank you Tobani for the encouargement and explanation of the poem.
You are very welcome
A wonderful poem that speaks for those unable to speak for themselves. The witch trials of present day society where those with emotional and mental problems are demonized and forcefully treated against their will or taken advantage of and made promises of a better life through the miracles of supposedly magical substances that snake oil peddlers profit off the naive. Then to be incarcerated for their supposed good. Well written
Your encouaragement and explanation of the theme is highly appreciated Soren, Thank you.
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