falling, failing now
they mass here at mid day
such a quandary how
I was with them so long
again, I was wrong
you’re kneeling there
with furtive eyes on me
and you say
turn your head, face the jury
turn again, face your peers
we have gathered to listen
to what we want to hear
bemused, confused so
much ado about nothing
abuse ensues, though
when I reply, you offer
you try, you falter
a spool of thread,
a needle won’t help me
is your faith so precarious
that you attack me and not my questions?