Disclaimer: I do not own Law and Order. This wonderful show and its characters belong to Mr. Dick Wolf.
Warning: My second attempt at poetry. Sequel to "Of Law"
Of Order
Men and women in plaid and cotton
They sit in their thrones
Living off of bourbon, cheap scotch
Fried rice and pasta.
They type away
File away
Searching
Searching for the answers within the law.
They are the ones that advise
The cesspool of crooked congressmen, and petty thieves
Asinine assassins, corrosive crooks and
Juvenile (both in attitudes and appearance) junkies.
They plead
They threaten
They "kindly" remind these scourges of the law
And the consequences of every action
That they take form that point on.
Some will defend these…peasants
Armed with the written law
And their own brands of incantations
Others will grill them
Until they crack under the strain.
Getting inside of their heads far worse
Than the men and women in brown and blue
When they think they have enough
To determine the fate of their man
They are shuttled off to court
To a peer of their own persuasion
There it is the vaudeville of the public
Lawyers, Judges and Spins of yarn—oh, my!
It is a never-ending game of moral judgment!
When the dust of the show settles
The lawyers make their final flare of a show
With harsh words
And timely lessons
When everything is said and done,
The jury, a group of peers
Must make or break the spell
The judges read the verdict
People hold in their breaths
Then, it's over
He has won
She has lost
Nothing has changed
It isn't important anymore
Either way, it destroys someone's life
After the show, everyone goes from the courthouse
They go on with their lives
They cannot see
That even when they are moving on
The lawyers are always working
Fueled by the fried rice
Renewed by the sauce of alcohol
The End