The irony: I have been a victim
of my supposed crime, but very few
came to comfort, hold other to account.
Instead, they looked away into sky blue.
I stand now accused, am being abused
by this “fair” system designed to protect.
Tarred and feathered, hung high in public view,
I pay steep price, afforded no respect.
No trial by jury, or by fire, only
raving rants and hateful condemnation.
They poke and prod, never satisfied; they
dub me woman with a reputation.
Cast as shameful sinner, mere reprobate,
I waver not, heaven’s verdict await.