Accused Poem by Inger Jansen

I wear a rosary
As I stand accused
With my brothers in chains.

The gallery looks on
We are exhibits
Numbered
I am number 3
But I am a twenty six

And I do not beam with pride
When my lawyer says she noticed my tattoos
Nor smile with a false sense of security.

On my cheek is a scar
Where I was stabbed
From my eye forms a tear
And then a river
Runs through that scar

Nobody hears me, my pain is silent and secret.
But She sees me.
Frees me, for a glimpse,
Frees herself,
Although the chains remain