Who am I then?

My hands rest on the table

Little indents in my wrists

You hear it all the time

Especially on TV

Innocent until proven guilty

But to them...

What is innocence? 

What is proof?

The judge says convicted of First Degree

I think, first?

That doesn't sound so bad

My lawyer hangs his head

He's a fighter

Heart and soul

The judge reads my sentence 

I can't breathe

The cuffs on my wrists feel like anchors

I defended my name 

They threw blood on it

My lawyer pled with logic

He pled with passion

They were blinded

By a bad name and a rough jaw

I bowed at the mercy of the court

They saw evil in me

Contradicted the man I know myself to be

So

Who am I then?