My Weeping Mother

I didn't know she was crying, Until I saw the tears and blood dripping from the corners of her swollen eyes, Her mouth was sealed and heart broken into shreds, She could neither sing nor mutter any African spiritual songs. Filthy and unspeakable, The transatlantic slavery system was brutal, Over twelve million Africans were stolen from their homelands, And sold to European and North American markets. Shackled together in pairs on board the ship, Their conditions were appalling. Each slave occupied a tiny space in the hold, The cramped conditions led to high incidences of diseases and death. The barbaric and fiendish act disrupted African societal structure, A glacial pang of pain like the stab of a dagger of ice frozen from a poisoned well, All that's beautiful drifted away like the rejected waters, Leaving Africa in an unknown world, wild as primeval chaos.