She cried to the southern wind.
Her tears were like waterfalls.
An undying hate.
With an untamed eruption.
Her fist of pride drove to the air.
As if soldiers were enchanted by her voice.
Marching with undaunted cares.
Her pride was like a crown.
Queen but not for a kingdom.
But for a revolution.
Marching like soldiers.
Prepared for what trouble that is.
Her bloodline was like roots to a tree.
Connected and chained.
Hard to break.
Her voice struck like an arrow to the heart.
Motionless nonsense.
Echoing like a drum beat.
Her acts of liberation were like a rhythm.
Beating like a heart.
Afraid to face the unknown.
The edge.
The roadblock to nowhere.
Her journey of liberation continues.
Dear, Aaron
I am shocked about your poem “Her cries of liberation,” because this poem hits very hard. These women have gone through so many things and yet things never get better because other people are looked down on them for who they are. Also the color of their skin but yet these women never give up and keep fighting nonstop for themselves.
One sentence that stands out to me is ” Her bloodline was like roots of a tree.” I think this is powerful because the whole reason why they are still fighting this battle for liberation is their heritage. The heritage of these women and their people is not the best but the worst thing is that other people of other races have not moved on so they choose to treat these women like less. They are strong women that have to fight for liberation because their heritage has they chained and bound to go through horrible things.
Thank you for writing. I look forward to seeing what you write next, because I like to know and read things that have to do with race. Also what people do about it is because I think that depending on what people do I find it to be super powerful and incredible.
Sincerely, Dulce
I love this poem!