She walks in hand shakin’ against the door
Eyes roamin’ ‘cause she hadn’t been in a court before.
To the left she can see the main suspect,
Her husband on trial for a crime he didn’t commit.
Once the bailiff yells, “all rise, this court is now in session”
She sits behind him awaiting his lawyer’s protection.

As the prosecutor begins describing the scene at the crime
She lost it when she heard the words “murderer” and “lifetime”.
The judge yells “order court” as she tries to pull herself together
She reminds herself of the past storms she had to weather.

As time passes by she begins to cry
‘Cause she knows it has arrived for her to testify.
As impatience and frustration rummage the suspects’ eyes amuck
She looks to the left to see the jury who’d heard enough
But in that moment she refused to have her love locked up
On the witness stand, she attempts to regain composure and smeared make-up.
With the pressure of the truth hardening her with intent
She proceeds into her perfected defense:

“I’ve never illustrated any person in the sense of Poetic Justice. So please don’t perceive me to be crude, and pardon my chutzpah as I attempt to alleviate my ambiguity…”

But when her attempts to free love fall flat
Her words unknowingly begin to contradict the facts.
With the prosecutor succeeding in twisting her words
And the defendants’ objections all over turned.
But the jurors return from the hours of deliberation
And guilty is shown on the verdicts revelation.
With the expectance to see his wife in pain and denial
Except this con-artist, she couldn’t help but smile.
And because no one could unveil her vice before
The true criminal, walked right out the front door.
-Ashley Browning