OutlastA Poem by Brad
My captors degrade my beauty and pawn my wealth
Their forked tongues deceive my people with false promises
They have no plan for us!
We are a means to an end
They labor for the enrichment of distant masters
Desiring their patronage
Their legacy will be pits and ashes
But my eyes do not waver, my steps do not falter
I was before them, and I will outlast them
© 2019 Brad |
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