A Sense Of Justice - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich
A timid boy, that's what he was.
A nerd in school, though into sports,
observing all his hometown laws
but drifting laterally, of sorts.
His senses had developed well,
but with his parents being strict
he felt dependent (all could tell) ,
much like a dog that has been kicked.
But something ripened in his mind,
it was a curious mix of fairness
and urgent need of being kind,
in conflict with acute awareness
that justice always must be done.
One day, while riding his new bike
in sweltering midsummer sun
he came upon a skinny tyke
in confrontation with a brute,
much older and more muscular.
The situation looked acute
and had progressed to vascular,
traumatic force, I mean red blood,
dripped from his nose into the mud.
The pair were totally mismatched,
the brute was known in town as tough.
The little guy, he must have hatched
twelve years before, it was enough!
Our nerd put on the stand his bike
and ordered Brute to stop the fight.
The answer was 'go take a hike
or I will crush you with my might.'
For those of you who've ever felt
the presence of adrenalin,
you would have loved that first quick belt,
which landed on the big guy's chin.
Without assistance from the kid
the daylights were then beaten out
of one who worked and lived amid
God-fearing people as a stout,
and tough and overbearing fellow.
His failing was lack of respect,
his colour as of then bright yellow.
He'd seek the weak and then select
the time and place where he could meet
his victims for a knuckle dusting.
Had never once met with defeat,
and on that day his eyes were lusting
for blood and glory, lots of tears.
But his opponent had decided
to shed all shyness and his fears,
and, from that moment he was guided
by Justice and the rights of man.
There was a rather quick conclusion,
our hero mumbled 'Yes, I can',
the case was clear, with no confusion.
The Brute had lost his reputation,
for, in the villages and valleys
the outcome had been a sensation.
And in the dark, sinister alleys,
the Brute was never seen again.
He had become a laughing stock
and never scared another man.
Much later Nerd became a Doc.
Comments about A Sense Of Justice by Herbert Nehrlich
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye