The paper trail brings back the shadow, A cold verdict from ninety-six. Texts full of words hiding the truth, Every single line weighing heavy. A three-year sentence dissolved into smoke, Set free by errors on paper. And the silence of those who should have protected me, Left its marks deep beneath my skin. Lines and dents, a silent scar, On the right side of who I am. A fight in my head, a storm of images, With a culprit I do not want to know. The anger flows through all that was lost, A past screaming loudly inside me. For the injustice remains where the culprit walked free, And the pain in the body survives. Medical terms detail the injuries, Traces in the cortex and fractures back then. A diagnosis labeled as battered, And no one who knew what to do. The questions of how it could ever get this far, In a world that stood silent and watched. The anger grows for the missing protection, Like a wound that never quite faded. Lines and dents, a silent scar, On the right side of who I am. A fight in my head, a storm of images, With a culprit I do not want to know. The anger flows through all that was lost, A past screaming loudly inside me. For the injustice remains where the culprit walked free, And the pain in the body survives. It's written on paper, black on white, it is real, No dream or invention of mine. The proof is here now, the puzzle complete, Though the peace hasn't set me free.
