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by Eric Miller

A call for jury duty arrived
although  I didn’t feel deprived
at never having served before
to settle some judicial score

For this civic duty I then prepared
And showed up like I really cared
Only to find an anxious crowd
Wanting to hear called out loud
The name of some poor other soul
To be sequestered in a hole
Every day and every night
Until a verdict could be reached
In a vacuum that was not  breached

Suddenly I heard the prosecutor cry
And point to a juror to disqualify
And seconds later I heard a name
Which was mine, the very same.
And to the jury box I was sent
Where for the trial my time I spent

An immigrant from a faraway nation
Who owned an all night gas station
Was being charged for assault
Committed when he tried to halt
A parolee who tried to rob him blind
Until under the counter the owner did find
A bat to knock the thief out cold
With a home run swing very bold

The prosecution swayed us not
But only angered us and made us hot
That this case was somehow  brought
To trial without any logic or thought

So when it was time to deliberate
The gas station owner’s legal fate
We decided a crime he did not commit
So we looked for a verdict that was a better fit

“We find the defendant not guilty,” I stated
Which made him ecstatic and very elated
“But we do find that the Judge and the Assistant D.A.
Have wasted our time and should have to pay
By taking the fall for disrespecting us all
That is our verdict and final call”