Where Is The Justice?
Where is the Justice...where indeed is the justice?
In the death of millions, by the choice of merried madness,
Where unaligned pleas for truth melt away
Towards some regimented regular,
And where accorded functions suit only accorded seasons.
For as expected, as usual, I foresee no sign,
No standard acquittal, no break of ethical day.
What tailored comfort lies in wait?
What hired hopefulness
could redeem the excuse for this pitiful malaise?
As absented days form a chain of bondage
Nations remain untamed, regretting, resentful of hope
Forlorn to wait in chaste oblivion
To grope alone without hope of heart,
Again to mirror the bidding of a thousand sighs!
And to all this am I uniquely the sole witness?
What unaccounted for vice have I feigned as virtue?
At whose banquet have I wrested more than my fair share?
For the only absence I have incurred is that absence of mind!
Yes, surely we made an agreement of some sort, somewhere,
© Fidel Asante 2004