John Paul Wilson
Justice - Poem by John Paul Wilson
I cannot wear that unfashionable flower
But whoever bore me left it, singing the hour
Only I tore the hills apart
With my fashionable dart.
I have grown fat here therefore
Do not ask me what I am here for,
What I am not! I will kill tomorrow
With my refashionable arrow.
Because I am great - but was there not more?
do not ask me what! I was here for
This, the hiss that booed the cheer
That jeered the criminal that killed the man.
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