For the twenty-fifth day of National Poetry Month, I have a little poem about slavery and racism. While I'm an apparently cis white male, there are some themes in my world about the former slavery of the dalpre[1].
I'm not planning on writing a lot when they were slaves (not really my story) but I am planning on working out how society handles them after they are “freed” both from the point of the dalpre and for the humans.
Yes, Sir, I Understand
"Dog, move that wagon." Yes, Sir, I understand. You don't care who I am Only the fur on my back And the muzzle on my mouth. "Dog, carry those boxes." Yes, Sir, I understand. You don't see me as human Only an animal that can listen With fingers that break. "Dog, build those gallows." Yes, Sir, I understand. You don't see this as a crime Only breeding your pets And getting rid of the bad ones. "Dog, step up." Yes, Sir, I understand. You don't see me as a being Only empty eyes that can't see And my tail between my legs. "Dog, rot in hell." Yes, Sir, I understand. You don't see me has someone Only a beast that went too far And bred with one of yours.
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