A Worthy Slave. Poem by Tony Adah
A Worthy Slave.
Even though I no longer wear
A noose around my neck
I feel less certain of my freedom
Than when the guns pointed everywhere
With the stern looks of starched crispy men.
Now no smell of gunpowder anymore
I am too fatigued to know
That I have won the war in which
My brother's hands brandish still a gauntlet
Then I am still a worthy slave.
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: freedom
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5/6/2024 7:03:13 PM # 1.0.0.1119
