Middle Passage

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A strange new cargo
Packed together all tight.
It was brought in shackles
And chains last night.
Hundreds and hundreds
Are packed in the hull
But not one makes a peep
No sound breaks the lull.
They are put side by side
And put face to face
But it is an unpleasant
And discomforting embrace.
Sometimes they leak fluids
On themselves or another,
Sometimes they cry out
To be ripped asunder.
And sometimes one is found
Damaged or broken
But it is easily fixed
When thrown into the ocean.
But this strange new cargo
Could resemble man
Except if you look
At the color of its hand.





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