Thinking I was making some difference

Only to realise isolation in my self made significance

Revelations of my history voicing my misery, only prevented my progress of present existence

Trapping me in a repetitive persistence, learning nothing but distance

My fists clenched as I drenched myself in outward blames and self

convincing claims

Protests and campaigns eased my pains

Until one day whilst wandering outside

Something inside me had awoken so that I may realise

That I had been dragging the past into the present as a means of public awareness