I Am
I am a part that long split from a whole.
The whole that circulates to meet its start.
I am the last that lost its past,
And the past that searches for its present.
I am and am in a pain
That day in and day out gains weight.
I am blue-turned-black ink
That flows from the pen broken into twain.
I am a case that awaits the trial
In a courtroom of crooked jury.
I still long to rise and vie for justice.
I seek my start to complete my end.
I look for splinters to gather them up,
And present my last with the first and the past.
(09-April-2016)
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