a letter to apathy
Bleeding cries pulled tight with worn out laces
Black-white-brown-grey hands weep red against the noise;
Malice wears down buckled knees, thrashed faces
A limp, purpled ghost, knowing she has no choice.
Cries strangled down by blinding memories
Wicked binds breaking paper-thin, mired flesh;
It grabs her soul next- a crushing scream flees,
as bleached bones tremble under her satin dress.
Laughter echoes, lights strobe in blurred flashes;
You drink, laugh, eat in gluttoned abandon,
as she’s shackled to men with dollar stashes-
Trapped, stolen, sold- licked clean from all attachments.
Too consumed with yourself, too blind to see her pain,
as slave girl whimpers for freedom from his chains.