Slavery
Chains that clatter, rusted tight,
Steal the warmth of morning light.
Backs are bent, hands are sore,
Lashed and broken evermore.
Fields of sorrow, cotton white,
Torn from dawn till dead of night.
Cries that echo, unheard pleas,
Freedom whispers on the breeze.
Families ripped and cast apart,
A mother wails, a shattered heart.
Children sold, their names erased,
Love denied, their past displaced.
Masters claim their right to own,
Flesh and blood, yet hearts of stone.
Gold and greed their only creed,
Built their world on others' need.
Men who toil, yet reap no gain,
Drenched in sweat, drowned in pain.
Hope is but a fleeting dream,
Lost beneath the lash's scream.
Yet through the dark, a spark remains,
A voice that fights against the chains.
For though we suffered, though we died,
The dream of freedom won't run dry.
So hear my voice beyond the grave,
No man was ever born a slave.
For justice waits though justice lags,
Our spirits rise our bodies sag.
One day these chains shall break and fall,
And freedom's voice shall rise for all.
.
Copyright © James Mclain | Year Posted 2025
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