So I couldn’t let the truth stay buried,
unhallowed, neglected. We share the same blood,
but you would condemn me,
stone me, bury me like an inconvenient truth
must be contained. My brother succeeded,
but hear me from my unmarked tomb–
remember me, my belt
defiant in gold and green, my colors
gay and unwavering
before the jury of my peers,
unqualified but judging all the same.
Let them cast their lots. I know the outcome.
I always knew
who would win, and why.
You admitted that the dearest profit could be too dear,
so I remember
when you called me dear.