Dear Slavery,

 

You are the uninvited guest that never leaves.

The one who bereaves the owners of their freedoms.

Put your feet on the table like you own this place,

Yell “Honey, I’m home!” forcing yourself in this space

Like I didn’t pay rent before you got here.

 

Your childish ways fall on the blind eyes of those with the power to see.

It’s why the master surpasses teacher

Stripping them of their ideals until they are three-fifths of themselves.

Where the Slavemaster surpasses the preacher

Having the congregation believe that you are God.

 

Having us believe that we are to be treated like dogs,

Expected to come every time you snap your fingers.

But I applaud you.

Commend you on your ability to wear many hats.

That of a parent, a friend, or lover.

 

The mother who treats her child like a servant, instead of a gift.

The friend who only hits you up when they need a lift.

The lover, who gifts you with the black and blue bruises of love,

The feeling like no other, until you realize this vicious cycle started with the mother.

 

As it starts at home.

Slavery, you have the power to make this house no longer feel like a home.

You are the puzzle with pieces spread all over the world until you stopped at mine.

Making those who fear the sun your friend,

And those who soak in the light your foe.

 

See, it’s a shame that it took one out of sixteen men to stand up to you.

How it only put one piece in place.

How we are still taught to make sure you stay in your box.

The lesson has never been learned, but modified.

The yearning for freedom has never gone away,

And we will not be satisfied ‘till you leave the party.

 

As you were never invited.

We will not be satisfied until this house is a home again.

Until the puzzle is finished

Until you are finished.

But until then, Slavery don’t forget:

 

This is our house

And we still pay rent.