Scapegoat

Standard

 

broken-glass-1818066_640
Today, lethal injection.
Tomorrow, he’ll turn fourteen.
Neighbors, still throwing leftovers
from the verdict, will study the downcast
scowl and fleshy pout to deduce, “He’ll
be just like his thug father, just look
at him.” So in five years, at his
own trial,
they could nudge the other’s rib:
“See? Told you so”
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