So she was walking into the courtroom. Her hair was long and wavy and she was ready to finish this trial.
She knew she was guilty.
But she wouldn’t let them know this, even if it was the last thing she did.
It just wouldn’t happen.
trails are made for people who have done bad things.
yes, i have done things regretable in my life, but for once, this trial isn’t for me.
it’s for him, and he has done what i never thought he could do.
he killed them.
i watched as he let my best friends die in front of me.
all three of them.
dead as doornails.
and now i am here, testifying at his trail.
the trial that will end him.
The trial began on the hottest March 22nd ever on record. As a very large man, George was perspiring heavily which made many in the spectator gallery think that he was obviously guilty. George was fighting for his life, his freedom. He was going to lose.
one day during the apocalypse was a man named gorge and he was arrest for sodomy because he was ugly and in order to over come that fear he killed himself. the end
I;’m on constant trial these days. i don’t knopw what to do about it. i don’t know what to say about this word. is that bad? this is a trial to see if i suck at typing or not, huh? fuck i lose. godammit!
nothing works out for you. you’ve finally figured that out. they found the body, they found the skin and her hair in clumps by the river. standing in trial, and you know nothing ever works out for you.
and error. What more can I say? This is a trial. I’m trying to study for my macro exam but, oh vey. Sixty seconds. This is a trial too. Trials trials trials.
Life has its trials, it’s downfalls, its ups. It isn’t a time trial, its not about getting there the fastest, it’s only about getting there. The trials you get through make you stronger. The longer it takes to get there the more you can endure.
Oh the trial is ever going in my mind. Is this innocent? Or unforgivable? I will never know. Too subjective too tell. I need another opinion. Yet I’m frightened. My illness stops me. I am innocent by reason of insanity.
It really was trial and error, he thought to himself as he worked dilligently on the problem before him. He glared down at the paper, determined to solve it without help. This kind of determination was uncommon, but his father had promised him a car if he could get straight A’s. He was determined to succeed on his own.
i walk into the courtroom my hands cufeed. sweat trickles down my brow. i didnt do it i mumur. but they dont believe me this is my trial .this is my life im thrown into a jail cell without a say.
The single word rung in her ears – guilty. That couldn’t be right. She had a solid alibi. And she had been so confident that she wouldn’t get caught. After all, it couldn’t be possible. She had been very careful about what she had done, cleaning up any traces. Not only that, but the prosecutor was an idiot. It was almost an insult to be caught in the act. She looked expectantly out at the crowd, hoping someone would shout, “It can’t be her. Never her.” When the only thing that met her ears was silence, and the cold metal of the handuffs touched her wrists, she bowed her head in shame.
The sweat flowed down her forehead and into her eyes. She rapidly blinked her eyes, and gulped audibly. The judge’s expression was sceptical. Was guilty?
Innocence was left behind at the scene of the crime. Today was the trial. Pulling up to the courthouse, heartbroken was the family of the accused convict. Being thrown into the arms of security only to be locked up for as long as he didn’t even know.
and error- or just, I’m sorry honey but you’re flat out wrong. Go back to the stalls and reread your newspapers and check the dictionary before you come back over here.
The trial was over in a heartbeat. He lost the battle. The judge told him that he could go on no farther. He was sentenced to never have another chance, another chance at anything. The relationship was over. There was no connection left. He lost his only chance. The end.
Trials. We face them everyday. Whether it be just getting up to make it to the mail box or completing a project for a class or not yelling at someone who cuts you off in traffic. Trials make us into who we are based on how we act in those moments – based on what we succeed and fail at.
the trial began
a man condemned
to a life gone by in a matter of days
the trigger was pulled
his thoughts didnt matter
the hole in his heart just grew wider and wider
as he fell to his knees
and he clenched his fists
he gave in and held the blade to his wrists.
The trial never happened. It didn’t even get that far, because there wasn’t enough evidence. And just like that, a cold hearted bastard would get away with one of the most disgusting crimes in existance. He would wander the streets, and do it again. And again, and again, and again. Maybe he’d slip up. Hopefully.
He went up to the stand, and put his hand on the Bible, hoping that God would hear him. The only reason he would ever be in a situation like this was because he wanted the truth.
Trial and error was the way that Kate did most everything. She learned to cook by trial and error. The food would never turn out completely inedible, so she served it to her roommates anyway.
The trial was long and arduous. The defendant sat quetly whist his lawer spat the truth at the jury. “HE IS FULLY AND WHOLLY INNOCENT. THE EVIDENCE HERE PROVES THIS!”
I stood in the witness box trembling. I had never been so nervous. i looked at the jury and felt the burn of their eyes piercing through my flesh. I resolved it was time to tell the truth for once.
You put me on trial everyday. I’m judged by the way I dress. I’m judged by the way I speak. I’m judged by the way my pocket jingles when I walk down the street. You don’t look, and hear, and see. You just assume you know me. You don’t know that I’m walking over to the bank to deposit my latest $10,000 check, or that I ripped my tights today and gave my cash to my daughter for her lunch. You don’t know me. You don’t even know if I’m telling you the truth.
I sat in the courtroom. It was empty. i tried to put the events of the last week behind me, but it seemed that no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts would come crashing back to me.
So she was walking into the courtroom. Her hair was long and wavy and she was ready to finish this trial.
She knew she was guilty.
But she wouldn’t let them know this, even if it was the last thing she did.
It just wouldn’t happen.
an examination. a test that one is put under or is put on an individual. sometimes used to bring a just conclusion.
trails are made for people who have done bad things.
yes, i have done things regretable in my life, but for once, this trial isn’t for me.
it’s for him, and he has done what i never thought he could do.
he killed them.
i watched as he let my best friends die in front of me.
all three of them.
dead as doornails.
and now i am here, testifying at his trail.
the trial that will end him.
The trial began on the hottest March 22nd ever on record. As a very large man, George was perspiring heavily which made many in the spectator gallery think that he was obviously guilty. George was fighting for his life, his freedom. He was going to lose.
entry form. never let it happen. never even opened the door. why not? i still don’t know. maybe i was afraid of the trials.
one day during the apocalypse was a man named gorge and he was arrest for sodomy because he was ugly and in order to over come that fear he killed himself. the end
The trial was long and she was not allowed to go in fear that she would lose her baby.
I sat in the trial, God striking me. I knew what I done was wrong. I sinned. I could not turn back.
I;’m on constant trial these days. i don’t knopw what to do about it. i don’t know what to say about this word. is that bad? this is a trial to see if i suck at typing or not, huh? fuck i lose. godammit!
I feel like I’m constantly on trial. With friends, family, lovers, all of it. It’s a constant court room case and I don’t know how to fix it.
I feel like I’m constantly on trial. With friends, family, lovers, all of it. It’s a constant court room case and I don’t know how to fix it.
One’s success is measured by how their trials in life were overcome.
Why must i be forced to face trial for something i have never even dreamed of doing. If i am to be punished i just want them to know its not my fault!
nothing works out for you. you’ve finally figured that out. they found the body, they found the skin and her hair in clumps by the river. standing in trial, and you know nothing ever works out for you.
and error. What more can I say? This is a trial. I’m trying to study for my macro exam but, oh vey. Sixty seconds. This is a trial too. Trials trials trials.
Life has its trials, it’s downfalls, its ups. It isn’t a time trial, its not about getting there the fastest, it’s only about getting there. The trials you get through make you stronger. The longer it takes to get there the more you can endure.
Oh the trial is ever going in my mind. Is this innocent? Or unforgivable? I will never know. Too subjective too tell. I need another opinion. Yet I’m frightened. My illness stops me. I am innocent by reason of insanity.
It really was trial and error, he thought to himself as he worked dilligently on the problem before him. He glared down at the paper, determined to solve it without help. This kind of determination was uncommon, but his father had promised him a car if he could get straight A’s. He was determined to succeed on his own.
Everyone gets their trial or day in court…
Does that mean we are all criminals for at least one day?
i walk into the courtroom my hands cufeed. sweat trickles down my brow. i didnt do it i mumur. but they dont believe me this is my trial .this is my life im thrown into a jail cell without a say.
The single word rung in her ears – guilty. That couldn’t be right. She had a solid alibi. And she had been so confident that she wouldn’t get caught. After all, it couldn’t be possible. She had been very careful about what she had done, cleaning up any traces. Not only that, but the prosecutor was an idiot. It was almost an insult to be caught in the act. She looked expectantly out at the crowd, hoping someone would shout, “It can’t be her. Never her.” When the only thing that met her ears was silence, and the cold metal of the handuffs touched her wrists, she bowed her head in shame.
The sweat flowed down her forehead and into her eyes. She rapidly blinked her eyes, and gulped audibly. The judge’s expression was sceptical. Was guilty?
Innocence was left behind at the scene of the crime. Today was the trial. Pulling up to the courthouse, heartbroken was the family of the accused convict. Being thrown into the arms of security only to be locked up for as long as he didn’t even know.
It was only a trial thing, if they didn’t like each other they could go their separate ways.
and error- or just, I’m sorry honey but you’re flat out wrong. Go back to the stalls and reread your newspapers and check the dictionary before you come back over here.
The trial was over in a heartbeat. He lost the battle. The judge told him that he could go on no farther. He was sentenced to never have another chance, another chance at anything. The relationship was over. There was no connection left. He lost his only chance. The end.
to think you would offer
comfort in these moments
of extreme despair is
asinine
and don’t think the for a
second that i wanted your
love anyway.
Trials. We face them everyday. Whether it be just getting up to make it to the mail box or completing a project for a class or not yelling at someone who cuts you off in traffic. Trials make us into who we are based on how we act in those moments – based on what we succeed and fail at.
the trial began
a man condemned
to a life gone by in a matter of days
the trigger was pulled
his thoughts didnt matter
the hole in his heart just grew wider and wider
as he fell to his knees
and he clenched his fists
he gave in and held the blade to his wrists.
The trial never happened. It didn’t even get that far, because there wasn’t enough evidence. And just like that, a cold hearted bastard would get away with one of the most disgusting crimes in existance. He would wander the streets, and do it again. And again, and again, and again. Maybe he’d slip up. Hopefully.
He went up to the stand, and put his hand on the Bible, hoping that God would hear him. The only reason he would ever be in a situation like this was because he wanted the truth.
i couldn’t think. i couldn’t move. i couldn’t breathe. well, i could speak. and she said yes. absolutely.
Life is full of trials, some more trivial than others
The strong ones make conquer all trials thrown their direction.
Love’s worth the trials.
Trial and error was the way that Kate did most everything. She learned to cook by trial and error. The food would never turn out completely inedible, so she served it to her roommates anyway.
The trial was long and arduous. The defendant sat quetly whist his lawer spat the truth at the jury. “HE IS FULLY AND WHOLLY INNOCENT. THE EVIDENCE HERE PROVES THIS!”
I stood in the witness box trembling. I had never been so nervous. i looked at the jury and felt the burn of their eyes piercing through my flesh. I resolved it was time to tell the truth for once.
you put me on trial
on a pedestal
and it is so very high
I will or am afraid
that I will fall from
your grace…
please beloved…
let me down.
You put me on trial everyday. I’m judged by the way I dress. I’m judged by the way I speak. I’m judged by the way my pocket jingles when I walk down the street. You don’t look, and hear, and see. You just assume you know me. You don’t know that I’m walking over to the bank to deposit my latest $10,000 check, or that I ripped my tights today and gave my cash to my daughter for her lunch. You don’t know me. You don’t even know if I’m telling you the truth.
I sat in the courtroom. It was empty. i tried to put the events of the last week behind me, but it seemed that no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts would come crashing back to me.
She couldn’t see further than her own burden.