What is justice?
It is this intangible
feeling of right-doing.
A word that allows us to continue on
without a cloud of guilt.
But is it real?
Can we rid ourselves of a wrong-doing
by “serving justice?”
Does it just go away?
What about the family?
Or the everlasting effects of the act?
It can’t disappear.
Justice is our shapeshifting scapegoat;
we mold it to fit out selfish minds
and waltz out of the issue feeling
clean,
innocent.
But we are all tainted,
forever stained by the things we tried to wash away.
So, what is justice?
A lie.