Full Circle

It came back

like a storm we swore we’d outgrown,

a shadow stretching

from wounds we never let heal.

The circle tightens—

old words in new mouths,

old fears in new clothes,

old lines redrawn

as if time never learned its lesson.

But every return

reveals the truth  missed before:

a circle can be broken

the moment someone refuses

to walk it again.

 The wheel turns,

slow and grinding,

pulling yesterday’s ghosts

into today’s light.

The pattern repeats—

the same cracks in the foundation,

the same weight on the same shoulders,

the same silence

where justice should speak.

 It comes back around—

the prejudice,

the power games,

the quiet cruelty dressed as order.

History didn’t repeat itself.

It was pushed, nudged,

Guided back by the same hands

that never wanted the story to change.

But here we stand,

eyes open,

voices sharpened,

ready to cut through the loop

and write an ending

that refuses to circle back.