You walk by me everyday.
You think I’m just a decaying old wheel.
Little do you know how much you would hate me on judgement day.
It has been said I was one of the first forms of execution.
Perhaps your death would be by broken bones or bludgeoning.
I sure was not offering you absolution.
In my prime I was known as the enforcer.
You may have raised your voice in proclaiming your innocence.
But in the end my passing friend, I was the one who provided your painful torture.