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.

 

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world

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