Accusation

By the old swings
Beneath the Witches hat
Drifting here,
I drifted there;
Dreamt and waited for my girl.

Standing firm,
Watching hard!
A man arrived and stared me down,
Through glasses thick as thick can be.

Mobs of ravens pecked the earth,
Cheered and egged on my accuser
While he whipped his camera out and
Photographed this “child abuser”

I’m still in shock as I recall
An OAP on my estate.
Accused of luring sweet and small,
Poor children to a vicious fate.

Dead now! Burnt inside his flat
All despite his clear acquittal.
To the mob; the truth, the facts,
All mean so very, very little….