To be heard...

An innocent child once asked me of the significance of justice so I thought back I thought back to how my mother would have answered me She would have said the quality of being fair or reasonable with a person I looked onto that answer as correct for a few more years in my life But we forget to see To see the truth in this big thing we call the DOJ The Department of Justice is not their to gratify us in every plea The courts are persuaded by the lawyer The lawyer is persuaded and pushed to step up its game by money That is where the lower class innocent civilian gets stuck He gets thrown into a case and then into a tiny ruck Where instead of being set free into his land He gets thrown behind bars Pleading with his hands Just to be heard one more time But money is all justice hears So that definition my mother gave me was to make me happy When in reality justice has turned into a few peoples fears Until the child understands how the world is mean I will make justice seem squeaky clean I write to announce how I feel When I am too afraid and shy I am afraid to be shunned by those who are afraid to see what is real But I don't want to die and not leave a mark and just be a pass by I hope my words will inspire those to speak out on their emotions So no one has to ask why The page will speak my silent motions. I tell that child to write his questions Those questions turn into a beautiful happening More than just words its taking possessions Of what to you is enlightening