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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 05, 2018

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Submitted: September 05, 2018



Happy, joyful, smart, young

Some of the words made to describe,

What I could have become

All lost with the fire of a gun

Taken from me before it even begun


Locked in prisons and put to work

Following orders even in murk

Kneeling against the stony ground

When found snooping around


Shot and killed, tortured and beaten

All for a similar reason

Whether good or bad

Is what you think

But discrimination is just the brink


Taken from our homes

Moving across the land

Going from camp to camp

With new masters every hand


Those around you are all you have

When locked inside this hell hat

Some it slowly drags below

But I refuse to go

Survival is my only goal

Taking those I love along with me

I try to stand, not to flee


When one has fallen, I pick them up

When one is frozen, I push them forward

When there is two ways to go

Whichever way the best

I make sure we both pass the test


Freedom being right around the corner

Just beyond our grasp

Although I do not see it

My mother helps me pass

By keeping me held back we pass the test

Bullets stop flying

People stop dying in a flash

Liberation has come at last

© Copyright 2019 Iva Terres. All rights reserved.

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