Dedication
This work of art is dedicated to those put in pains and anguish in a way or the other. It could be in form of slavery, molestation, rape, intimidation etc. All incidents and lines are products of the authors imaginations, Any semblance to persons living or dead is completely coincidental.
PRELUDE
Painstakingly I pick up my quill to write the untold
We live in our small village
Happy life and healthy living
We weren't complaining
From bush hunting to water fetching
From night stories to festivals
Suddenly our village was invaded
They said they are from the city _ citizens
I hid as I watched them take our girls
They took our girls
And our lives went from good to bad so fast
No one was bold enough to help us
Our houses razed down before our eyes
They care only to till our lands
We suffered on in silence
When will this turmoil end?
I haven't said anything to anyone
Neither have I written this
It's going to be left untold.
YOU ARE READING
THE UNTOLD
PoetryThe untold is a narrative poem which tells a story of a young embittered lady who until their village was encroached by slave traders was living the life. However, her quest to relay what her tender eyes witnessed prompted the writing of this free p...
