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.