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The Courtroom

You can die in a courtroom;

No bloom in your face

What can erase

The chase you find so important.

And so you rant,

Like a pissed up tramp.

No lamp lights your way.

Oh, I tell a lie

Come by and sit with me,

Just a moment of your time.

Speak loudly, I am a bit deaf.

A bit death? Said I.

No, they sound similar;

I am familiar with your case.

I suggest you brace yourself.

I have news, none of it good I’m afraid.

So I delayed telling you,


I hate to be the bearer of sad tidings.

Published inAddictions & LustAllegoriesHealth & WealthLaw & Disorder