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A Grain of Justice


By S. A. CrawfordPublished 2 months ago 1 min read
Image: Karolina Grabowska via Pexels

Water in the desert,

a flower in the snow,

sun in the dead of the night,

a river that does not flow.

Frozen moments like glassy ice,

hanging in time,

no less common than fresh snow.

In the low morning light,

a sob is a shriek and fresh blood,

spilled without care,

shines like oil on the street.

Show me a grain of justice,

and I will give you my world.

My life for a speck of justice,

not even a book to be opened,

or a scroll unfurled.

You will not find it in the street,

or oak-paneled rooms.

Not in history, on screens,

or enshrined in marble, gilt tombs.

Bring a shred of justice to the table,

and stand above kings and lords.

Watch it slip through your fingers,

and see how it crumbles when put into words.

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About the Creator

S. A. Crawford

Writer, reader, life-long student - being brave and finally taking the plunge by publishing some articles and fiction pieces.

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