Metal Bodies and Shiny Knives
What did they think
When they stood on their shores
This ship of anew
Never seen before
Made of wood
Just like their own
But who are these people
To come to our homes
On our beach they land
Metal clad
Carrying shining knives
With a look of mad
On our shores we meet
Face to face
Unknown to us then
What our future would grace
They are not here long
As their madness shows
Drinking, incoherent
Striking blows
Weeks pass
As they increase their pain
Our women beaten and raped
For their pleasurable gain
The following morning
We are manacled and chained
Our village burned
Blows down on us rain
To their boat we are taken
Thrown into the dark
Infested with rats
Sodden, stark
The sound of our breakers
Grow quiet and distant
As I fear for my people
We are now nonexistent
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/slavery.php
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