Poem: Chains

Years a slave

finally walking free

mud-caked down dirty shoes

dragging home

Will the soul ever sing on key

after bent down beat work

freedom is loaded

heavy with ropes

pulling on out

but ever tying

things tight low hopes

Forty years in Penitentiary

then hitting the street

smelling the air of


Bars and walls now left behind

the etching of punish

carved carefully through time

The binding gavels

final thud to close

the pathways forward

And words and words

to wound and cut

much bloodier than what

a gun can shoot

Inside the body disappears

until  it seems to be

just hollow fears

Fly away or gather others

yet sounds still linger close

will any time

seem anew

and recapture the ghost

Slave, prisoner and abused

can liberate some day

and wanna walk hard away

from hellish past

with head up and

chains left in a rusting mass



12 thoughts on “Poem: Chains

  1. Oh wow, thanks! It was actually inspired by something that happened to me, then I had a conversation with a best friend. We were working through it together and she was sharing some of her personal experiences too… You’re the best!

  2. Wow Ann, I’m honored you should feel that way. I know your take on poetry, so that means a lot to me. Maybe that means I’m getting better?? Ha ha. It’s from a personal place….xo

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