Rubin Juvenile Court

Rubin Juvenile Court

Many days and nights spent and passed
In the judgement of the juvenile court
Erected by my mother GRHS
Bedrooms were often prison cells
This is more than sarcasm
Those days, the verdict lay
The guilty must lie in their rooms
To await punishment
Mother was prosecutor
Father was defense
He went to my bedside to inflict surface wounds
"Try to cry," he warned me
"Mother is listening."
I tried to scream as the leather belt lashed
Mental scars are deeper than wounds of flesh
But she believed I took my beating
I sat in my room hungry and still
While the others sat at the table eating
Who can muster an appetite
When the court is not dismissed?
Those days are dead and gone
I live on
With ghosts raving in my memory
With death, all memories die
Meanwhile, I have a good lover
At my side