My Jury And My Judge

The streets are my jury, my judge is a gun,
My sentence is death for the crimes I have done.
Too late to change, too late to make right,
Although it's my life I've gave up the fight.
Wrongs I've committed for these I shall die,
To all of my loved ones, farewell and goodbye.
It's Heaven or Hell, but which place shall I go,
I can't answer this question for I do not know.
When the jury comes back with a verdict of guilt,
I'll know it's because of the heartache's I've built.
The Judge will convict me, though my one final plea,
To all of my loved ones please don't forget me.
But now I must go for I'm on the run,
Cause the streets are my jury, my judge is a Gun!

by Toby Rocha

Other poems of ROCHA (3)

Comments (1)

is this a true story of crime... i am going to prison on april 13 for a crime i didn't commit. yes i was guilty of violating my probation by using drugs - i relasped. but they claimed to have found enough cocaine to charge me with felony possession - and offered me a plea bargain of 1 year accepting that plea (although I knew I did not have enough cocaine to be charged with that crime) , they scared me with saying if i went to trial i could be convicted of 5-7 years... but after i plead guity to the charge, THE DA STATED THEY HAD NO PHYSICAL EVIDENCE AND IF I HAD GONE TO TRIAL I WOULD HAVE BEEN ACQUITTED. See what PUBLIC PRETENDERS (defenders do) , absolutely nothing. that's a job they should just not have people doing. it's a worthless profession, and it locks innocent people up. but that's just my opinion. i agree i violated my probation but that is a misdemenor as punishable by max 6 months in jail. life's not fair. ever.