In the cognitive courtroom,
shackled, with no key,
perhaps the gavel will fall soon,
or the jury might break for tea,
I resent the judge’s stern frown,
his cruel, unhelpful tone,
yet under his wig, above his gown,
a face as familiar as my own.
Just opened up the app, and to my surprise I found this amazingly written poem. I think it’s really impressive and insightful. Keep up the great work!
Damnnnnn….. are you like inside my soul or something? This is fucking amazing.