Copyright Poem by Samantha Pearson

Look Judge, here's what you do:

Take our cellphones, search our shoes
Send us into those cold back rooms
Test our merits, press our pride
Have each of us write you a chide

If after an hour you remain unmoved
I'll write you another
Hoping to prove-

He is the fraud here!
Not I, you deaf ears!

He is the problem!
Not I! Listen here!

Send us back there, bare footed and blue
And I'll bring you a poem
To show you who's who