Case No. 53 Exhibit Z

A Poem by Samuel

This is an excerpt from my first book “Save. My. Sanity.”

You try to push me to submission.
You take shattered glass and make a broken picture,
a reflection that is never accurate of the truth.
You always provide half-baked evidence,
a corpse full of bullet holes.

The moment your theories are shot down,
you become enraged, like your opinion was the objective trail to a solution.
“It’s not like I care anyway”
Atleast that’s your defense.
The jury can tell you’re telling a lie.
You broke the solemn oath under court law and we all know it.
You care but you don’t know how to show it.
You are blinded by a fog of irrational logic.
The only thing you lose is your true feelings.

We could rerun the data.
We could look at new angles but avoid the glaring solution.
We can hide behind rubber gloves and act as cold as ice.
After awhile dead bodies become normal.
Our relationship was just the latest victim, and you’re out to make me the murderer.