James Fraser Poet Rhyme

The Start of the End of My Village

One day herding my animals
The other, tending our crop
Strangers out of the distance
To them, we knew not
 
The colour of our skin
Is with these distant men
On arrival at my village
We are herded into a pen
 
Our women and children screaming
Warriors manacled and chained
Treated like this in our homeland
Degraded mistreated, unexplained
 
The next day we witness our nightmare
Our village ransacked and burned
Six hundred marched to the coastline
Our existence overturned
 
The coast we eventually reach
A ship, The Brooke's sits offshore
Ferried out on their longboats
For our future, remains unsure
 
Many weeks at sea
Grown men cower in corners
In the bowels of this infested ship
Families have become mourners
 
Tilbury Docks we berth
As i look around and see
From over 600 villagers
Around 300 left and me



http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/slavery.php

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Michael White August 5, 2009 at 4:28 PM very well done. I love when poetry cause you to see the action in the words. good job.

James Peranteau August 3, 2009 at 10:45 AM The bumps,..I should call them lumps, cause they are still rising from your write sir !!! powerful poetry !! james

Debbie Guzzi July 31, 2009 at 1:19 PM hard and harsh are men. Light & Love

Sara Kendrick July 31, 2009 at 10:17 AM Interesting writing. Is it based on fact? I see slavery in your web address. Nice rhyme and rythm. Could you explain Vignette to me more than it is explained in the resources? Also, there is a poetry technique that one uses lines pulled from previous stanzas and I cannot remember what the technique is called. Do you know? Thanks, Sara