#suspect
I'm a victim of my own
voice.
A ****** suspect of my
thoughts.
My actions are a chalk drawing
of mistakes..
But in all of this I was innocent,
not a suspect...
Sep 14, 2019
Sep 14, 2019 at 5:46 PM UTC
an inquisitive bird did narrate
his tale of a tryst
regarding Mrs Jean Jameson
and Mr Laurie List
in the forest some four miles
out of Thomas Town
they'd covertly meet on Tuesday
to play hands down
the bird always had his
eye trained on suspect activity
that was happening in
his immediate proximity
Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 7:12 AM UTC
If looks could **** there would be no need to search any further
you would then surely be accused of that first degree ******
But since you have such a deceptive and changing illusory face
it would be very hard indeed to substantiate and prove the case.
Many would be those who would even defend and plead for you
giving all manner of testimony in saying the evidence isn’t true.
They would also state that in support of their own ignorant belief
nobody could really tell the difference to avail of any other relief.
The allegations against you though would have to be disproved
for all of the suspicions and charges to be thoroughly removed.
There would also need to be absolutely no shadow of a doubt
in respect of your presence which was at the scene thereabout.
It seems that by the evidence available you've had a good run
what some observers would thereby call a ****** lot of fun;
for such a long time now you have been getting away with it all
but you have undermined the circumstances leading to your fall.
Sooner or later it may also happen that the table is turned around
and a suspect is apprehended with the accusations that are found.
The term of 'being innocent until proven guilty' then comes into play
a sure reminder that the system of justice is gradually making its way.
___________________________________________
Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 5:44 PM UTC
We saw our friend walking towards the school bus,
what he didn’t know was that there was two of us.
He put up a fight, but it was quite easy.
We stole his book bag and his new copy of Yeezy.
We took off down the street, the air quite hazy.
Mist falling from the sky making our eyes glaze-y.
Streetlights blur with the shift of our heads,
looking behind all we see are blues and reds.
This is it, this is the end.
Little did we know, our friend was dead.
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 1:27 PM UTC