chains…

 

Modified Google Image

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hands
pressed against
a cold window frame
staring into the darkness
recalling those
below ancient decks
with manacled hands
and feet
the smell
of rotting flesh
the sound
of rusted chains
reverberating
a legacy of pain
and sorrow
wondering now
about the future
of those bound
to tenements
asking if their chains
are not the same
rusted chains
of despair
that still grasp
and
cut deep
into the skin
of humanity
drawing new blood
that mingles
with the dried blood
of their forefathers
a thought interrupted
by the rattle
of windows
as a train passes
on the edge
of the have
and have
nots