The Accused

You know, standing up here is scary.
I can feel all your eyes on me,
Weighing my words, judging them .
It’s like my poem is on trial and
Is being attacked by an overly aggressive attorney.
And the dark eyes of the jury stare
My little poem trembles and quakes
“Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!”
Ten to twenty for…

lack of originality
lack of insight
and poor use of grammar!

The gavel pounds, “Next case please.”