The ink was still wet

by joetwo

They held the paper with confidence on their faces

As if it was that which gave them their power

And not the guns in their hands

I read the piece of paper

Already crumpled and smudged from use

Held by too many dirty, farmers hands

Mostly I couldn’t read it

Too much fancy language

They like it like that

Just to keep them lawyers and judges in business

I knew enough though to know it was final

That I couldn’t fight this

And as I went back to clear my small shack

To leave my world

I looked at my hands, they were covered in black

The ink was still wet

They had wasted no time

Took no delays

To get rid of their little problem

To get rid of me.

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