enslaved
she slept amidships
two beneath her and one above
after six weeks marching in the desert heat
shackles at her throat and ankles
it was a blessing to lie down
even though her sleeping place
was little more than a plank
no blanket
for warmth or modesty
no gown, no robe
just nakedness

one small hand manacled
bolted to the creaking frame
raw where sharp metal had cut into it
metal rusted from the blood of many
other pitiful creatures torn from their homelands
shackled tortured broken people
all bound to their floating prison walls
in the same manner as she

at night came the ghosts
screaming, howling, moaning all
those who had also made the voyage
but never saw its end
she prayed that soon she might join them
for death was surely better
than this living hell

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kiwigirl
Poetry
Free Verse
writing kiwigirl
The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart
--Helen Keller
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