Their bones break under the weight of burden.
They lie still amid the rubble and ash.
Hundreds of years, waiting for the impact.
An end to distress, cheery destruction.
So weak for so long, and finally snapped.
They used to stand up, riot and revolt.
Until heavy hearts crumpled their spirits.
Supposedly protective, what a lie.
My heart beats fast and my stomach is sick.
They drink too much and their sorrows are real.
The early warning signs, symptoms of loss.
Connected in a circle, holding hands.
Asking kumbaya, but never around.
The hunger threatens, and they remain strong.
Doing what they can is how they survive.
Pretty flowers, the pearls of the ocean.
Hidden deep inside to protect their growth.
Thousands of years they walked, hunting pale fish.
They didn’t see the beady eyes’ envy.
Festering in hatred that would soon come.
Puckered lips, wanting to kiss, all for coin.
Chains and shackles placed, revoking freedom.
Sold to their former brothers, exploited.
Abuses allowed, the sanctions of death.