By Mia Mullings
I'm so tired.
How much longer will we be seen only as those
Who worked the fields
Cooked the food
Made the meals,
Please tell me what should we feel!
Soaked in the tears of burning sun
The smell of cotton
Drenched the bodies of those
Stripped of their culture
Dragged by their toes
From the place they called home
To where they are whipped to the bone
By those whose hearts were made stone cold.
What more would life unfold?
But you see,
You've must've been mistaken,
To think that my people would only be taken
To become slaves and nothing more,
Never to rise up, never to soar
No, trust and believe we will become much more,
Go far beyond the chains that used to bind our limbs,
And seal our lips shut,
From speaking our minds
Mapping out what is hard to find,
Looking for a way out and never finding a sign
We will shine through,
We are more than history of slaves
We are the upcoming future,
And we will come fast.
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