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Gloria Horton-Young's avatar

Grace Under Fire: A Fiery Tale of Betrayal

In the land of court and claim,

where truths twist and lies proclaim,

Michael D. Cohen stood, his name

etched in light, stark against the frame

of his once lord, Donald J. Trump,

whose shadow loomed like a looming slump.

This day was more than legal fray—

a broken man's operatic play,

a bid for grace, once lost, now sought,

through the tangle of the truths he wrought.

Cohen, the loyal turned spectral guide,

leading us through betrayal’s tide.

Morning’s Aria

The dawn bore tension, thick and grim,

as Cohen swore the oath on whim.

His words, once sold to the highest bid,

now peeled the layers of the sordid grid.

Each revelation, a sharp, turned knife,

cutting free his former life.

The Defense, a Harsh Refrain

Todd Blanche rose with morning's light,

a clear intent to fight the fight.

He painted Cohen, a man embittered,

a flame of loyalty long since withered.

He probed the past, Cohen’s fall from grace,

seeking vengeance in this legal space.

Counterpoints in Afternoon’s Decline

By afternoon, the air was tight,

Cohen's resolve burning ever bright.

He spoke of silence bought and sold,

of shadowed deeds, bold and cold.

The defense, cunning, sought to fray

the timeline’s thread, Cohen's dismay.

Blanche, sharp as winter’s bone,

questioned gains Cohen’s words had sown.

Was truth his aim, or just new fame?

Cohen’s retort—a quiet claim,

his composure a shield, his armor tight,

against the slings of fortune’s spite.

Evening’s Loom and Strategy’s Weave

As twilight touched the courtroom’s face,

a change was sensed within the place.

The defense, once bold, now uncertain,

behind their whispers, the final curtain.

Cohen's story, firm and stark,

held the room from light till dark.

Epilogue: The Theater of Law

As echoes of the day’s discourse

left minds to wander, hearts to course,

Cohen, from loyal hound to lone nightingale,

sang a tale of loyalty’s frail.

In this courtly stage of human flaws,

he sought redemption, not applause.

The saga of sins, a script still writing,

with the nation as its unblinking sighting.

Each act unfurls with tragic weight,

where personal stakes claim legal fate.

In the dance of deceit and remedial song,

Cohen seeks a place to belong.

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Mitchell Zimmerman's avatar

I think as a juror I would believe Cohen because his story makes sense of the other evidence. To disbelieve that big picture you have to believe Cohen -- not a rich man -- gave Stormy $130,000 of his own money with no guaranty it would be repaid. I find that hard to believe.

As for Cohen’s shadiness, it was Trump who chose Cohen as his tool and his fixer for years. So it just tends to show Trump is dirty too.

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