My hands are clean,
But I was accused of stealing.
I was left alone,
But I was judge of getting what is not mine.


Am I the suspect now?
When on the first place,
I was the victim.

How could the suspect now
Be the one who is the victim.
And me, as the convicted.

You said it was yours on the first place.
It was also mine when you left it to rot.
I tried to fix it.
Slowly, gently.
Until it shines again.

When you see the beauty again.
You ripped from my hands.
Claiming it was yours
And I;  Stolen it away from you.

I’m the suspect.
The accused.
The convicted.

The real suspect now walked down the road.
With banner on her head saying
She was the victim.

A victim.
A victim with a rotten smile.
Pretending to be nice
When deep inside
Lurks the devil.

Take it.
Take it all.
Leave nothing to me.
Let it rot again in your hands
Until it dims again.