“It isn’t fair”. Equilibrium Libra justice. The center. The verdict doesn’t feel right. Not fair. Cheater, cheated, cheating, cheetah runs faster than any animal I have never seen with my own eyes. Fair as in campground, carnival tent with calliope music on a forever spinning carousel. Knee-deep in cotton candy and popcorn. Silly surprises and prizes. But when I lose that arcade game, it just isn’t fair. I feel wronged. The world seems to have misplaced its axis. Stone steps of a courtroom, imposing, impressive, and terrifying. The body rattles like it’s in the arms of a baby. Shooting star in the sky demonstrates lost dreams. A hopeless comets, whizzing across star-studded sky. Can you ask her what her favorite ice cream flavor is? Bird seed mad dash from the yard. Tripping over untied shoe laces. Not getting the car. Not getting the girl. Getting a bad grade. These high-school lensed perspectives seem like the most realistic time for me to say those types of juvenile injustices aloud.