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THE SLAVES

The pains had no word.
Men whisked from their world;
beating to submission
across Atlantic to cruel nation.
where in the muddy farms,
were abandoned with bound arms.

Their sweats mixed in blood;
coming as endless flood.
from the whips of the masters,
with no qualms for the disasters.
But even relished the groans;
the helpless plea to be alone.

The sin was their color,
the race seen as foul odor;
that belonged not for human
but one less than orphan,
whose cries only entertain
base pleasure craved to earn.

They were quartered in gutters,
scorned, isolated as the others,
deprived their dignity,
their humanity ruined with impunity,
left with no right, freedom and liberty,
disgraced, disrespected to insanity.

They were raped before the parents,
and children watched the mothers lament,
Young men lynched and burnt.
Falsely accused for some guts,
only to hide the fear, the cowardice
a belief in a rebellion to arise

Now the world has forgotten
this dark years of time truly rotten.
This shame etched in our inglorious past
But for the slaves it will forever last.
The broken spirits of these Negroes
destroy us all as we strive to grow.

Until reparation is done!
Until hate is gone!
until man sees beyond the forms!
Humanity will ever be assailed with storms!

About Duru Ernest

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