Empty Thoughts

This is a poem about slavery.

The stench bleaches out my thoughts 

My muscles are withering slabs of meat

I bake in my own heat, I lie in my own sludge

Memories of home intensify my bitterness 

Sleep contends to flee my presences 

Happiness finds no host in me

Life I wish could do the same, yet stubbornly it clings to me like a leech

Skimpy food they deliver, spoiled and putrid

But the empty rift within coerces me to devour the most inedible supplications 

Moans whirl around me, stealing away the charm of silence

When I see that gem of sky, the allure of open space,

I think to myself, why can I not be a tiny bird?

For no one seems to nail them down

Or rip their skin to rub the blood in their palms and smile

To take pleasure in hearing the sounds of suffering and torment

They ignore the beauty underneath, of human flesh, spirit, and pain

I often wonder how they cope,

To strip us of all that makes us people, yet think of themselves with civility!

What evils are we capable of! What corruptness we host!

We laugh with the Devil, and mingle with his demons 

Whatever my destiny I know it is deplorable

For would they handle us so if exaltation will be ours?

I sob with hopelessness

My tears sting my gory face

My quivering breaths throb beneath my bruised ribs

I want to die! Distressed, I screech, striking my confinement over and over  

There is nothing left for me but blood

I have no vigor to carry on

But I am forced to live

Even if there is no true life remaining in me

Why?