Justice...as I contemplated this word (or supposed virtue) this week... it felt like a rock hanging over my head. A rock ready to fall out of the sky onto my chicken little. I am but a little chicken after all (but, have been swinging my sword for some time to cut off its head).
Justice...a concept I thought I might consider a virtue within myself and found lacking the ability to express any meaning other than a swollen symbol inside the representation of myself getting ready to burst.
Justice... blinded with two hands busy with dichotomies, slashing and selling off what has been measured, clad as a woman, what madness is this?
Women have no understanding of justice other than that, which is manufactured for them, bearing their resemblance to draw in their sword and scales in occupied hands. Weighing up measures of sins whilst they sit blind folded by the system that created such a word.
I have had a hard time with justice as you can see, but then I can’t see that for myself... I am blind folded.
No comments:
Post a Comment