The Mythology of Mercy

If you’re a human,
There’s nothing you do you don’t
Adjust to please the judges,

However strangely
You choose to be judged.
Ancestors, unborn offspring,
Imaginary readers,

Utterly impotent gods
All get opportunities
They’ll never use for verdicts.

Every mind’s a lonely, long
Soliloquy in the dark
To a chamber packed with ghosts
Who don’t exist to notice.