"Is that justice?"

Last night, uh, uh, uh a taxi cab on Jane Street in the city, I was sitting on a stoop, stairs and a New York City taxi cab stopped in front of where I was sitting and three un-uniformed police officers got out and they asked me my name and I gave them my identification but apparently it came back active as if I had an active warrant. In December of 2004 I was homeless on the streets of New York and I was caught sleeping in Central Park after closing time and that's, ah, and that's why I'm here, that's why I don't have any cigarettes or a lighter. You know, ah, being subjected to the cops here is brutal, verbally I feel, I feel, I feel wronged. In 1991 I was going to Harvard University full scholarship and five months after I started my Harvard career my best friend since second grade, while I was sleeping, he attacked me with a cast iron frying pan sixty-five to eighty-five times in the head, broke all of my facial bones, I died twice that day and had a trachea, feeding tubes; I lost two-hundred and fifty pounds. I'm blind in my right eye because of skull fragments pushing into my optic nerve and it severed it. i cannot taste or smell anything for the rest of my life. He plead guilty to the charges of attempted murder and assault with a deadly weapon. He got six months probation, not one minute in jail. Is that justice?