The Boy Who Cried Foul

The Narrator speaks his thoughts in the midst of a misunderstanding

The boy who cried foul

I can feel them all. Glaring eyes,
Staring me down. Very sharp lines,
Touching my spine. Am I worthy?
Worthy to receive such treatment?

I know I'm clean. My conscience says.
But then again what do I know?
On a trial with no lawyers,
Tell me how I'm supposed to go.

How could they be so sure? When I,
I am just that boy who cried foul.