Is it me, the world, stupidity or wit?
The heights of joy and gladness, the deepest darkest pit
The depths of cruel depravity, for all the world to see
Was slavery abolished in 1833?
Why not ask the young girl, shackled to her bed
In filthy rags and sperm stained sheets, raped, molested, red raw teets.
Ask young Lithuanian boy, Imprisoned by his “friend”,
Brought into the country, not knowing how it’ll end
Visited both day and night, by the filthy rich and poor
Raped and raped and raped again, he’ll never leave that door.
Or ask the migrant worker, working in the fields.
Sixteen hours on a good day until the foreman yields.
Then locked inside a filthy hut, with barely room to rest,
You don’t complain, don’t waste your breath.
You just pray for early death.
Don’t tell them that slavery’s not an issue,
Wiping crocodile tears with your pristine tissue.
It has not gone, not even diminished,
So keep the fight until it’s finished.
©Joseph R. Mason 2020
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