The leaned up bodies and pale faces on the chair,
The black and white couture and the other undemanding wear,
I tell myself, I pulled me into this and other voices denote they don’t care,
The look, the sight, the stare,
It is really not my fault, though I stand there.
An order in the court, and the people rise above,
The Judge comes, all stand – and I don’t know who or how,
A sudden rush in me and I stand,
Before I sit my name is called out and here I am,
Standing in front of the court, all alone,
With a view of judgments, critics, Oh! I feel worn.
Hauling myself through the court room,
Hauling myself until I out-stand the loom,
A sign, a timid silence and the moment is done,
The trial in unending, off I go with my shoulder shun,
Awaiting..the next hearing.
Author:
This poem is about a court visit experienced by the poet. The poem is written by Sandhya Soans, a journalist at NewsKarnataka.com who also writes poems in her spare time. This poem is a part of her collection of poems and other literary material.