Tears roll down my cheeks unremitting,
Questions thrust at me unflinching,
False accusations…to them I have no answer,
No shield nor mask to protect being wounded,
I hear the evil cackle of laughter,
The ruckus, the cheering, all in jest,
I can hear everything.
My reality seems grim, dark as hell,
And I will go down in history books,
As the convict for a crime I didn’t commit.
You know me for the person I am,
The day I die, with a blemish on my record,
Please don’t believe the naysayers,
I was always true God . . . always true, always pure.
My legacy will live on,
Even if it means tearing my soul apart,
And like the tears that stream down my face,
My withering heart will remain unattended.