A Fatal Mistake (On my Trial) J.K. Bailey, San Quentin
God is our father, God is our judge Not twelve lowly people that harbor
a grudge
Lives are in question-attitudes not good But out of this chaos a jury now
stood They had but a few days to know this man Whose life, love and happiness
they hold in their hands
They say to themselves he looks like a nice enough guy But we must watch
and listen while this case we try They hear of the horror-the life lost-oh,
the pain Now we have to ask what did this man gain
A lineup? They had one. No, he wasn't picked out Hurray-point for our side-is
it okay to shout? An eye witness? Yes, a young lady was there She was asked
was it the man sitting in this chair?
"No" she said quite calmly, "That isn't the man" We
fill up with happiness-strike up the band Two people say he's innocent-he
has nothing to hide More testimony-more points for each side
The case is presented, we said our last speech The jury leaves-a verdict
to reach We sit each day our hearts beating fast How long will it take-how
long can we last
At last we're called in-our fate has been sealed We smile-two witnesses
proved our point we feel The verdict is read-guilty-that's all we hear No,
this can't be happening-the innocent have nothing to fear
Our lives are broken, our loved ones cry So many hurt-emotional death they
die We try to understand but now we are blind To reason or fact or hope
of any kind
Twelve mortal people took a life in their hands Set themselves up as Judge
and condemned this man A much greater sin -woe is their fate Tried to play
God-and made a fatal mistake.
Poems from the Pen
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