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Where in this life doth justice lie.
Is it that the world hath passed it by_
Does the lady really wear blinders on her eyes;
Turning a deaf ear to her children's cries_
Is the scale she holds in her hand,
Really in balance to all of the land.
Can it be the marble gown she wears,
Is there to mask the holes and tears_
To batter her to bits, is the wish of many,
For justice, She holds not any.
To let her stand, is a sin at most_
To her guest of hope, She's a psuedo Host.
To build a monument to such a lie_
Is to smother a baby because it cries.
by
Mary S. Hymel
Copyright © 1973-2001
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