Cotton

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Review Chain


Australia wasn't always just kangaroos and funny accents. Their history is actually much darker then they'd like to admit. And many who had to endure it, are still alive today.

Submitted: January 27, 2018

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Submitted: January 27, 2018

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I heard them coming
Rumbling thunder
Down the street.
I didn’t know what was happening
Nor what would happen
In the near future.
I just heard the cries
And felt the pulling and pushing
The chains they used.
I didn’t understand the reason
But I guess it was because 
They couldn’t do it themselves.
They couldn’t
Or they wouldn’t.
So they needed us
To do it for them.
And they weren’t betting on us
Doing it willingly.
They were right
But it meant nothing.
When we were sold
We knew the prices.
Because I had hair
And a pretty face
I cost more
But only by a little.
 But when it came to it
Gender didn’t matter
Not with work
Not with the hands
Or branches.
Not with food
Not with anything.
It would be everyday
When I went out to the field 
They didn’t like it if I stopped.
No
They really didn’t like it.
So I worked until my hands were raw
Then I’d work some more.
They say you get used to it
They were right.
But it was never a game.
We would work until the sky turned
When the birds stopped singing
And the lights were like the sun off the ocean
When it’s calm.
Then we would work some more
Until the men came 
And prodded us back in our huts.
We did the work
But we might as well have not.
“You do it right you’ll be rewarded” 
That’s what Papa always said.
But that didn’t happen here
Here in the sandpaper of Australia.

 


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