No one's running or laughing anymore.

No one's smiling or playing.

On the dirt covered ground, the children lay still,

Shivering in their own fear.

Whispers travel across the air,

Having no one but themselves to hear their voices.

We don't know their plans for us.

We dont know what they will do.

We don't know anything.

A woman cries as her daughter is ripped from her arms,

To be made a slave and to work for whites.

Never to see the woman again.

On this darkened day, they sold us all.

We walked away with wet and blined faces.

Our minds to them were useless with the days work,

As they beat us senseless for what we are.

What we do.

I could never figure out why they did this,

Destroyed our lives for their pleasure.

Beaten.

Burned.

Cut.

Betrayed.

The life of a slave is all but beauty.