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The Trial

How dare there be a private prosecution?
Of somebody who’d tell us what to do?
How dare there be a private prosecution?
He is above us all. Both me and you.

With charm and grace and wit beyond all measure,
He makes us laugh at dropping of a hat.
Much mirth abounds. And merriment and pleasure.
How could it ever be considered that

We should not simply fol-de-rol and follow,
As happy children led by Piper Pied,
Who speaks in jest and blows his pipe of hollow,
That we should follow, follow open-eyed,

As children might? And likely they will do so.
And why? They know no better. That is why.
The law protects the young from people who so
Will lead them far astray, with joyful cry.

Which one of us would not protect our infants,
As far as can be done, within the law?
Upholding it, at each protecting instance.
As adults, we have seen it all before.

Remember Savile? Piper Pied? Prolific.
How nobody dared doubt his charismat?
Blind eyes were turned to matters quite specific,
‘Til truth emerged, when gravestone shattered flat.

There is, of course, the law. We must obey it.
Obedience is not an option here.
Those in command are duty-bound to say it
And to ensure that other people hear.

And so there is a private prosecution.
It’s necessary, to uphold the law
Which governs all our madhouse institution.
Let popular misconduct rule no more.

Where lunatic commands the whole asylum,
No man is safe from some outrageous whim.
Cry loud “Fiat justitia. Ruat Coelum.”
The law protects us all from such as him.

BY

31.05. 2019
 
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