The tales dead men can't tell are told instead
by bloodstains and by broken bits of skull,
by details that are small, obscure and dull.
They smashed a truncheon down across his head
or broke her spleen or liver with a kick
shot at the crowd, did not aim high at all,
or trampled where they lay against a wall
or let him suffocate in his own sick.
They did these things because they are the Law
And do not need concern themselves with facts
that paint them with the blood of deadly acts,
really don't need to worry any more
Yet sometimes courts will turn and bite them still.
Hold them responsible for those they kill.