The Enslave Woman
Flash backs like atrocious thoughts
That plagues my mind with its unwanted disease.
Wretched cries escaping my tattered lips
Tears that flowed
With the crystal of salt upon my dreary face.
Dragged from the confines of my home
To a place where I knew nothing of
Insulted for being different
Disrespected because I was a woman.
Taken to the fields we flocked in the thousands
Sold like property for we were their chattels.
Throughout time not once recognized
Our contributions to the plantation ignored
For our issues did not merit inclusion in their historic tales.
Why?
Because of the malevolence of the white man.
He bought, sold and degraded us as women
And in the process enabling us to be continuously
Tarnished and exploited by the black opposite sex
No one remembers our struggles, our hardships,
Our suppression of what comes naturally
We fought and worked just as hard
But do we attain the acknowledgement we are owed, No!
Hands coarse as sand from manual labor
For we too we in the fields
The pain that shattered through our bodies
Too sweet to bear.
Skin golden from the glare of the sun
And the sweat of our endurance.
Yet on still we toiled
Weeding, sowing, toting gallons of water
Bending our back as an offering to the sun
For we were always inferior
As a black race and as a women.
I have gone on now but my story will remain
Written in remembrance of the power of the enslaved women
Left to educate on the struggles we encountered
Strong but undermined
Yet still somehow we managed to press on
Remember us, the pain as well as the hardship we felt.
We fought for you our children.
We are your mothers.
YOU ARE READING
Poetic Madness in the Making
PoetryEmotions are never easy to deal with. Putting pen to paper is just one avenue. Join in the Emotional maze.
