Quotes about acquit, page 2
Some People Peek At Evil
Look at me I wish to resist evil.
I don't want a piece of it to sit near me.
I've got to rid deceiving people...
Smiling at me like I'm fit to eat!
Look at me I wish to resist evil.
None of evil do I want near me
Some people peek at evil through their keyholes.
With beliefs I see as much naïve!
Look at me I wish to resist evil.
It doesn't fit,
Acquit me from it please.
I've got to rid deceiving people.
Those who trick and think I treat.
Some people peek at evil through their keyholes.
With beliefs I see as much naive!
I've got to rid deceiving people.
Those who trick and think I treat.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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10 Things I'm Sorry For
I'm sorry that I love you
In such ways I cant let go
I'm sorry that I spoke true
In ways you didn't want to know
I'm sorry that I put you through
This hell that I bestowed
Im sorry for things I've done
For the poor effects they've had
I'm sorry for failing at fun
For making good things bad
I'm sorry for shit I begun
All the times I made you mad
I'm sorry I am always there
Even when you dont want me
I'm sorry I can seem unfair
Even when dont try to be
I'm sorry I am causing scares
Especially for their degree
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poem by Aplier Hao
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Forgiving Mother
Please son do not hang up on me when I call you
I want to talk to you; in words may be a few
I know your priorities and responsibilities my son
I want to ask “How are you? ” and then I am done
It is painful for me when you treat me as a stranger
I think I have done something wrong for your anger
Son, please do explain me what wrong did I commit
Then I can ask for your forgiveness and be acquit
The other day you passed by me in your fancy car
You ignored me and let me walk in the burning tar
I forgive you my dear because I love you so much,
My Son in your difficulties I’ll always be your clutch
I fed you and nurtured you and expect nothing in return
But when you ill-treat and neglect me I feel my heart burn
My heart ached endlessly when you yelled and assaulted me
I ignore those because you are still a precious child for me
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poem by Nilesh Tavarayan
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Scapegoatism
When the going is smooth,
When success is the standard
When compliments flow from all angles
And the group is swimming in brilliance
They misappropriate the praises
They appropriate the prizes
They arrogate credit for good decisions
They usurp the tribute for choice of suitable strategy
They claim the accolade for the group's glory
And steal the honour of becoming the acclaimed
But when the going becomes tough
When defeat is experienced
When strategies do not deliver
When victory becomes a mirage
When challenges stir the group the face
When criticisms flow from all directions
And the group assumes the status of a joker
They point accusing figures at others
They craftily jettison the blames
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poem by Emmanuel Oduro
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Give Us Barabbas
There was a man-a Jew of kingly blood,
But of the people-poor and lowly born,
Accused of blasphemy of God, He stood
Before the Roman Pilate, while in scorn
The multitude demanded it was fit
That one should suffer for the people, while
Another be released, absolved, acquit,
To live his life out virtuous or vile.
'Whom will ye have-Barabbas or this Jew?'
Pilate made answer to the mob, 'The choice
Is yours; I wash my hands of this, and you,
Do as you will.' With one vast ribald voice
The populace arose and, shrieking, cried,
'Give us Barabbas, we condone his deeds!'
And He of Nazareth was crucified-
Misjudged, condemned, dishonoured for their needs.
And down these nineteen centuries anew
Comes the hoarse-throated, brutalized refrain,
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poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
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The System Of Justice
If we all tried and did something good each day
we would then help to keep so much evil at bay.
And in the world there would be a lot less crime
and so people would not have to do penalty time.
The same can be said about the telling of lies
that are deceptive which most people despise.
Because no one really likes to know they've been deceived
especially after being told something false that is believed.
This raises the specific issues of virtue and vice
or conduct of what is or isn't regarded to be nice.
The laws of the state are to be followed as a guide
by all the people who are by them otherwise tried.
If found to have transgressed in a particular way
that did not conform to a specific law of the day.
There's usually someone who sounds the alarm
when a member of society is suspected of harm.
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poem by George Krokos
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The Cautious Lovers
Silvia, let's from the Crowd retire;
For, What to you and me
(Who but each other do desire)
Is all that here we see?
Apart we'll live, tho' not alone;
For, who alone can call
Those, who in Desarts live with One,
If in that One they've All?
The World a vast Meander is,
Where Hearts confus'dly stray;
Where Few do hit, whilst Thousands miss
The happy mutual Way:
Where Hands are by stern Parents ty'd,
Who oft, in Cupid's Scorn,
Do for the widow'd State provide,
Before that Love is born:
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poem by Anne Kingsmill Finch
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Apostate Will
In days of old, when Wesley's power
Gathered new strength by every hour;
Apostate Will, just sunk in trade,
Resolved his bargain should be made;
Then strait to Wesley he repairs,
And puts on grave and solemn airs;
Then thus the pious man addressed.
Good sir, I think your doctrine best;
Your servant will a Wesley be,
Therefore the principles teach me.
The preacher then instructions gave.
How he in this world should behave;
He hears, assents, and gives a nod,
Says every word's the word of God,
Then lifting his dissembling eyes,
How blessed is the sect! he cries;
Nor Bingham, Young, nor Stillingfleet,
Shall make me from this sect retreat.
He then his circumstances declared,
How hardly with him matters fared,
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poem by Thomas Chatterton
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Robot City
I live in the city of Wanna-Be
In the State of Much-Too-Hard,
And watch for the all If-Only folk
Who stick to their own backyard,
The schools are breeding their robot kids
That I call, I-Know-My-Rights,
The courts acquit them of larceny
And turn them loose in the night.
And some are ticketed Not-My-Fault,
Or Somebody-else-Not-Me!
Along with the other Why-Should-I?
They all just Wanna-Be-Free,
Then I-Had-A-Lousy-Childhood think
They can moan, and cry on the stairs,
While I have a word to answer them:
Find-Somebody-Who-Cares!
But often I notice, way out there
The ones who greet with a smile,
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poem by David Lewis Paget
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Lays of Sorrow
The day was wet, the rain fell souse
Like jars of strawberry jam, [1] a
sound was heard in the old henhouse,
A beating of a hammer.
Of stalwart form, and visage warm,
Two youths were seen within it,
Splitting up an old tree into perches for their poultry
At a hundred strokes [2] a minute.
The work is done, the hen has taken
Possession of her nest and eggs,
Without a thought of eggs and bacon, [3]
(Or I am very much mistaken happy)
She turns over each shell,
To be sure that all's well,
Looks into the straw
To see there's no flaw,
Goes once round the house, [4]
Half afraid of a mouse,
Then sinks calmly to rest
On the top of her nest,
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poem by Lewis Carroll
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