The Judge's Gavel

I can't believe it, the sentence handed down. Ten years in prison, a future drowned. Why would the judge lock me away for a first offense, for a single fray?

I stood in court, my story told. Every painful detail, every truth unfold. But he didn't care, his mind was set. His gavel fell, my fate beset.

My dad hit me first, I tried to explain. But the judge saw only my rage, my disdain. Why is it not self-defense, a cry for help? When I was pushed to the edge, lost in myself?

I know I took it too far, the anger unleashed. The monster within me finally released. But I was mad, and the fury was wild, a lifetime of pain, in that moment compiled.

I can't believe it, the verdict, the time. For a first mistake, such a heavy climb. Ten years to ponder, to live with regret. To wonder if forgiveness is something I'll get.

In that courtroom, my voice was a plea. For understanding, for sympathy. But the judge saw only the crime, not the cause, and now I'm left to face these iron laws.

My heart breaks with every passing day. Locked in this cell, the light fades away. I told my side, but it wasn't enough. The justice I sought, so cold, so tough.

Why is it not self-defense, the protection I sought. When my own father struck, left me distraught? I was just a boy, lost in the fight. Hoping for mercy, for some kind of light.

I know I shouldn't have let rage take control. But years of abuse had taken their toll. In that moment of weakness, I struck back with might, and now I'm paying for that fateful night.

I can't believe it, the sentence I face. Ten years in darkness, in this confined space. For a first offense, such a heavy price. A decade to reflect, to grieve, to think twice.

My soul is weary, my heart full of pain. Locked in this prison, under constant strain. I told my story, but the judge didn't see. The boy who was hurting, the boy who was me.