My soul hunts cheap justice
Over the plains of carpeted floors
Beyond the savannah of desk chairs
Away from the huts of curious minds
and the shine of polished nameplates

My eyes seek cheap justice
Looking to the sea of masked faces
A mountain of guilt stands in between
An avalanche of shame crashes down
Forcing me back to my silent retreat

My heart finds cheap justice
in a kind word, or maybe four?
Or in an arm around the shoulder -
Maybe a smile as wide as the Amazon.
Priceless for me, an expense of your gesture.