to the oceans of Newfoundland,
my ancestors were bound,
in balls and chains.
dragged along like animals,
to a land that remained foreign to them.
and the oppressors whipped their buttocks,
and spat on their faces,
was there something wrong with their colours?
Or was it the way they said their names?
Was this man's inhumanity to man?
Why were they hated so?
Had someone sold them off for a bottle of Coca-Cola and a mirror?
babies, and children, the aged and the sick,
men and women as bold and,
beautiful as any of God's creation?
cuffed they all were,
in a single file as common animals,
my ancestors were humiliated.
and the decades of oppression,
in capacitated against their wills,
my ancestors were sold to slavery.
it was unreal.
a change of names they were given,
some were separated at bay,
a breastfeeding baby away from its mother.
under the scorching sun, they persevered,
someday, that day would come.
at night they were fed stale bread and water,
but they dare not leave,
lest they get a bullet in the skull.
they had to break the shackles of oppression,
and chains of slavery,
someday, they will be free again,
one day, any day, that day they will step foot on free land.
for the abolition of slavery,
in the end, he triumphed.
the free breeze against their faces,
alas, the sweet smell of freedom,
free from all oppression,
from the evil and vices of men.
free spirited,
free born.