If you've ever done history,
Then you know what I mean.
A part of the past ,
Not left unseen.
Fear was used to control,
Drill and practice.
Like conditioning animals,
To follow their every word.
Mental pressure, memorize,
Write , or more likely get it right !
They hover behind you with a whip,
A thick leather strap.
The whip cracks,As the slave master hits you behind your back.
You did something wrong again.
Sharing one room. Animals in a den.
Rise early. Go in late.
What you do determines you do fate.
Finally, the time has come.
As you fill out the papers of freedom.
As you roll in your bed at night.
You still get nightmares of that fight.
Some of your people didn't make it.
They were by them and with teeth were bit.
This is part of our history.
No matter near or far the time maybe.
In the words of Bob Marley,
"Emancipate yourself from mental slavery."
YOU ARE READING
When The Soul Is Silent
PoetryWhat do you do... When you have so much to say.. So much on your mind... but nothing escapes your lips? What do you do... When you have nothing to say... Your mind empty like death... and the cold feeling forms inside? What do you do... When you fee...
