At The Beginning Poem by (TPAC) Alexander Coppedge

need to be there reliving that initial beginning, at the very start, every performed act then; enduring those precise moments projected: coming to know time conveyed by them then, be aware acts about those things.


I want to reactivate those moments that happened pertaining to a tragic event occurring; recreate it, bring back those factors, recall their details; push out any reasonable doubt prevailing to its fact about what occurred, confirm the whole evidence.


I'm under pressure, scattered into pieces, being torn and separated into parts, coming a leg short of acknowledging that reality; seeking out any left behind traces pertaining to knowing its truth.


My thoughts, absent those times, are like a dropped broken puzzle, missing those events which occurred; in particular, leaving out actualities; grasping tiny partial factors only pertaining to a live event.


My efforts given can only achieve a little of its full occurrence, obtaining tiny bits of those actual facts, then verifying solely the old steps which did happen, found accountable as its reality.


No, first I need to be at the start of that spoken beginning; witnessing those initial details, feeling inside factors before lived: reliving entire moments of intensity before I think truthfully, give my viewpoint of it, an opinion.