Hey all! Jailed is my 7th publicly shared poem, which will eventually be included in my poetry collection. Please, comment, or email me back with your suggestions and reactions, as they will help me improve on my work (and may even be included in the published collection).
Jailed
In a day most common by our norms
Tom put on his uniform
And went out on his way
To do what ordinary people may.
But on the street he got stopped
By two heavily armed cops.
He seemed guilty, the policemen said,
For the murder of a man they declared dead.
Tom has never held a weapon in his hands
Nor has he seen any deceased man.
Yet, the cops were so convincing in their guff
That he volunteered in getting his hands cuffed.
After all, it's the policemen's job to know
Who did or didn't break the law.
If they convict him, then he must agree
And in court of justice, 'guilty' he must plead.
Tom was sent to jail for an indefinite amount of time.
To get out he only needed to deny committing any crime.
But in his culpability he dwelled
And locked himself into a prison cell.
He indulged into the comfort of this vile cage
And for all the books Tom read, he never wrote a single page.
He was often entertained by the stories of his fellow inmate
With whom he shared comparable fate.
Time scrubbed Jim's memory of how he broke the law,
yet reinforced the conviction of his fault.
He was only certain what he's done was grim
And that society was better off without him.
What all members of this prison failed to comprehend
Was that none of them needed to amend.
An innocent crowd of greenhorns was all they ever were
They were simply jailed by views concurred.
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