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By Regina Guarisco
Axis of Logic
Thursday, Jan 1, 2004


 

Judges

Could you pull the trigger,
Of a gun.
Pointed at a mans head.
You could make the judgment
But could you,
Flip the switch of the silent screaming dead.
So easy it was,
For you to sleep,
After condemning ones soul.
Any you only saw a few pieces,
Of the puzzle,
But blind to see the whole.
No matter the crime,
Committed or not,
Who gave you the human right to judge the worth of life?
So easy to say "cut their throat"
"We decide he lives or dies"
But yet I don�t see you holding bloody knife.
If it was greed,
That made you say guilty or not guilty,
How could you judge something so valuable as a human being?
If it was for justice,
Why is another family crying?
Why are those hurt still weeping?
I have heard its existence,
Defended in every way,
"It will teach others a lesson that the law is the law"
"It will bring closure to those involved"
But they sit with curtains closed,
So quick to judge with consequences as bad as the crime they appalled.
While he lays on the cold slab of a table,
And breathes his final breath,
Remember we are all judged one day.
So while you point the finger,
Placing the blame,
There are three more pointing your way.

© Copyright 2004 by AxisofLogic.com

 


 

Regina Guarisco is a 17 year old young woman who began writing poetry at the age of 10. She has been sending her poems to us from her home in Bullhead City, Arizona for almost a year now. Regina describes herself as a "small town country girl at heart". She has been enrolled in a community college since age 14 and places a high value on education. When asked for a brief biographical sketch to include with her poems, she gave us these details and added:

"The one thing I have always wanted to do was make a difference with my talent. Even if only in a small way it would be a difference nonetheless. Which is quite hard to accomplish I realized. First I had to find a worthy cause that's maybe the hardest part. Then I had to get past the insecurity making myself stop thinking thoughts like �my poems aren't as good as this person- or "my writing is good enough". It took me a little bit to realize it wasn't about being the best it was about giving your best."

"So remember dear friends and readers ...

The world may crumble from your feet
And the sky may fall on your head
But what will go on forever
Are the precious words you said. - RG 

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