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The sound of our feets were sweet.
Our songs resonated with our clapping hands.
It conveyed innocence and youth.
Oh! How can I forget.
Her radiant black.
How can I not remember her thick rich hair, brilliantly threaded by fine hands.
For when they came, they aimed at our fathers.
They aimed at our mothers.
They shot and never stopped, until our brothers lay lifeless on our floors.
Like savages, we were dragged above their bodies with paws.
Chained, we cried, we screamed, beaten and stacked, filthy and snatched.
Her grace is long gone.
Sores kiss her face with reckless abandon.
Now, she's just a shadow of the old one.
We are the forgotten ones.
By Jaymie Eze
#FORGOTTEN #ONES
#FREEDOM
#POEM
#MyCollectionOfShortStories
Photo credit : Pinterest
Hello ifeoma baby. U re obviously new on steemit and still have a lot to learn. This platform is very promising and i hope you stick around too. Just like blogging, it takes time and consistency too. I urge u not to give up even when u don't see immediate result. Have fun while learning about what work and what doesn't work on the platform.
One tip: people see your posts. I almost scroll passed this post before i said let me comment. This is how it will be till u build ur own followers.
Am a Nigeria and from ur name i guess u re too. Feel free to comment your questions or confusion in any of my recent posts and i will reply you. Welcome.
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