At What Cost

June 22, 2010
As the rock upon her finger gleams
So does a little black boy dream
Of better times when he was home
Free to learn and free to roam
Yet the jewel that once brought her great joy
Was merely naught but a decoy
For her husbands lack of love
A hoax played on her God above
All this while the boy endures much pain
His hopes to leave are all in vein
But still he holds tight onto his soul
The one thing his captors hadn't stole
And what of the ring? it gathers dust
A remnant of some long lost lust
Picked long ago in some African lake
Leaving nothing but havoc in its wake

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