But for the official certification
Evidenced in a mere piece of paper,
And taken as the only way to our El-Dorado,
I too am a wizard of law.
I am a wizard of law.
The Lords of law are my witnesses
The Appellate Courts are my witnesses
The law reports are my witnesses
My roving clientele are my witnesses.
And my defeated colleagues in their crutches
That have had the pleasure of my punches
And now lose their appetite and their lunches,
Pursuant to my doing and my skillful munches
Are my constant eye witnesses.
But for that certification,
(The only road by me not (yet) taken)
I am at par with our legal ethics.
In consonance with our mathematics
In accord with our legal geometrics,
More than the certified and real McCoys.
I toil the geography of our courts
With utmost confidence and know-how.
I peruse the biology of our courts
With the clearest of mindset.
I carry the anatomy of our profession
With the conviction of an ardent believer.
I am the assemblage of what is fit,
The summative hugeness of what is proper,
The facsimile of what is professional,
The exactness of what is exemplary,
The raconteur of what is landmark,
The troubadour of what is becoming.
But upon my felonious head still hangs,
A destructive sound that bangs.
For when the judge’s gavel strikes
It is like the lightning from the goldsmith’s anvil.
–Bolaji Ramos, Esq.
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