Blanketed or smothered

Scales slide with the sun, cages open and close

Heads roll from judgment, forgiveness quantified within sunless rooms.

Juror’s seats filled to capacity with so called peers…peers mandated to judgment from every color in the tapestry to pluck a strand on the merit of a mandated defender.

All these strings woven and compelled in harmony look at a an unwanted scarp of fabric….

How can the string that plucks ever understand the accused? What does the unknown and un-harmonious look like through the eyes of the understood and chosen?

If you were tossed from the loom, every aspect of you defined and compared to the whole

If you rebelled, and for that are made to sit and watch the harmonious itemize your life without being ever wrapped in their comfort.

What would you feel?