Men grabbed him by the tee shirt, his jacket on the ground
entrenched in muddy waters there came a soothing sound
The volume was pervading, not variable at all
They took him on a frogmarch, just like walking to death row
The sobbing was tangential like a whisper on the wind
These were the consequences of a man who might have sinned.
A woman in a blue blouse was standing by the crowd
With tears of pain she jumped out and tried to scream out loud
She knew he didn’t need to be punished on this day
And cried and moaned the whole time they took her son away.
©2022 CBialczak Poetry