The Witness on trial
I was present at the trial
when Marcus Tullius took the stage
To defend a man accused, by you,
of poisoning and outrage.
I tried to hide a smile
when he all but called you 'Whore'.
He painted Caelius as some innocent
that you lured to your door.
He defined you as a harlot
though he barely spoke your name.
He next implied your brother
was your spouse in all but name.
He acknowledged your nobility
and then outlined your shame.
He all but stripped you naked,
He's a master of the game.
The rumors of your drunkenness
last summer at the shore.
The long parade of Lovers
while your husband was at war.
His porcine face was damp with sweat
but his eyes betrayed his glee.
that you, the State's star witness,
were stripped of credibility
poem by John F. McCullagh
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
