The Arrest

Parked outside the cottage
was a car painted like piano keys.
Men stepped down - whose faces
spelled justice for the rich
and hands that exacted punishment
for the poor.

As one of the men toyed
with rusty cuffs -
those dreaded tools that
even a god has been held
captive; unconscious
while staring at the sky.

And the gavel remains
but claims not to be
the most innocent slayer
that hires silence
to cease tons of men -
even some of the gods.

If the walls have ears,
they should know how
at night, the men would
write their letters in tears.

And if the bars have mouths,
how many times they would say:
"I'd miss those hands of yours
that once held me."