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Seema Sep 2017
Collecting my tears in my cupped hands
Feeling the aches by the leashes of wips
Some of the bodies still sway as it hangs
Slaves are we, fetch gold till our skin rips

They call themselves the clean beings
Their skin flashed white while ours dark
They say we are ***** and our blood stinks
And stamp our backs with a hot rod to mark

I am a girl with so many broken dreams
Trapped in slavery with other unfortunate slaves
My mouth is sealed yet my soul desperately screams
I wonder why people of such, declare godly behaves

My mind is numb, my body is torn
I am used by many, as a nights babie doll
I wish I wasn't a female to be born
No one comes for my rescue, whenever I call

I am so done living like a house without a door
No knocks, no greets, just entered by goons
Each night I have to kiss the filthy floor
Beaten, ripped, spitted...no one hears my moans

Tonight I am passing out from this world for good
My life is worthless among these hungry lords
I am not gonna be another meal or fleshy food
My soul can no longer bear the wrath nor,
                                             my body can afford...


©sim
Inspired by a documentary on YouTube about slavery.
martin murray Aug 2017
We are free!
We live in the land of opportunity,
With multicultural integrated communities,
Thank you elders for preaches, speeches of unity;

But now............;
I am sad, sad, sad, sad, sad;

The innocent live in a electronic prison,
And worst, some are slaves to the nation;

2017 the clink of the chain is replaced with a silent hum,
Even the whir of the brain computer interface machine disappears in the atmosphere glum;

We don't hear or see chains drag and clink,
As the imprisoned human's walk in sync,
The mainstream public unaware do not have a chance to bethink,

A spokes person will arise through the new generation,
With peaceful preaches, speeches to each Royal monarch,
And member's of Parliament to abolish electronic restraint's.
This is what cannot be seen, but is happening.
ClawedBeauty101 Aug 2017
There once was a rope.... I was at one end of it....

I was pulling up on this rope, while someone else was pulling down

This person was a mixture of multiple people and faces, but they all threw the same fit

As they hung off the high cliff, They threw more then one demand at me.

"Pull me up!" or "No! Leave me hanging!" It's mind always seemed to be in a split.

How long did I suffer with this confusion?

Long enough! I grew so weak and weary, I knew I had to quit!

The up and down motion wore down my soul, it turned my hands into a ****** mess

I tried to make them sit on the ledge with me to save them, but I almost got bit.

I wanted to bring them to safety, looks like the Lord had other plans

I pull out a knife to end the chaos, the blade forcing the rope to submit

It was then at the last second they begged me to bring them up, but my ears refused to listen.

Some of the faces screamed in panic, as the other laughed in victory as they fell into the pit

I stood over the edge watching them fall into the grave they dug up themselves

I shook my head as they disappeared from sight, knowing this was for their benefit.

Though I am away from that place now I can still hear them still

Yelling and screaming lies and apologies, thankfully this is no longer my conflict.

I had to let you go, for you took advantage of me

I am free from your burdens and pain. This I could not resist...
Finally Free...

(This is just a bit of a draft, but :P it's okay XD)
Poetic T Jul 2017
Licking the soles
of there
             abandoned shoes

He tasted the outside the world.

Dreams were footsteps never taken..
Lovely Jun 2017
She is beautiful
she walks with poise
she speaks with elegance
she sees with eyes full of pain
she listens though she is never heard
her skin is as rich as chocolate
her hair is like wool
her back is scared from the knives in your hands
her feet are cut from the miles she walks
her legs are weak from running to get away from your words
But
she walks with poise
she speaks with elegance
her skin is exquisite
her hair is curly
this woman thats been to the deepest parts of
The Devils Palace
is beautiful
She is "A Work Of Art"
This poem is basically about a woman that is a slave to the world but she still keeps her class thru the stuff she went thru.
Stanley Wilkin Jun 2017
Shadow crept into my life one dismal winter’s night
Perverting me with its touch.
They came from the shadows
Formless beings made of hatred,
Of greed.
Without a care they plucked me from my nest
My life
As if I were but a simple pebble from a beach
A memento for their wives.

I was not for their wives, however
But for those of a greater disposition.
Those of antiquated lineage
The founders of our way.
Those with jewels on their fingers,
Flowers in their hair
Perfume floating in the air.

Before long I was swept away
Into a new life of servitude,
One from which there was no escape,
No Sanctuary.
Shackles on my hands,
Lashes on my back
I did their bidding with a smile on my face
To distract me from my pain.

It was no use.
Months floated by
As if my life were but a dream.
The same routine.

Months became years
I was still theirs.
My face still belonged to the back of their hands,
My back to the clap of their whip,
My ribs to the force of their kicks.
No reprieve for a lowlife like me.

I came to accept my life in time.
It was my fault.
The woods were never a place for my kind
The son of a prefect,
The pretty little boy with slaves of his own
Who belonged to him.
Their bodies
Their souls.

Only now do I realise there was no luck involved
In fate’s betrayal of her child
I deserve this
This life of servitude.
By my son: Stephen Francis
Anthony Smith Jun 2017
With locks the color of a raven she kneels,
To place before me a life lost.

For this is my realm
where I hold true,
to the life devoid of light.

And she is but one of many,
a servant like the rest.
Now she kneels where few have knelt before.

She lifts her head to meet my gaze,
and though it was in defiance, I cannot help but falter.

The loss in her eyes is that of the others,
yet into my soul her gaze has burrowed.

One has long since been lost to reside in this place,
some more so than others.

And though I know her name not,
nor her story have I heard,

I cannot look away as a single tear falls
and lands upon the life lost,

To land upon that Ebony Rose.
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