Men of Gold

We were the many who stood naked

soaked in sweat but anonymous

they couldn't see our hearts and minds

not that they wanted to anyway

our arms were our essential blindfolds

we shielded our faces from the glaring light

they inspected our skin and limbs

our manhoods were perceived as a threat

but our labor was the currency they sought

it was our fate to be totally controlled

the bids came in rapid succession

our value connected to our age

twenty-five to one and a half thousand dollars

prices depending on the year of the sale

certain death by gun if we fought back bold

brothers and sisters, young or aging

we were all inspected and assessed

our dignity and humanity were stripped away

for what against the odds had we survived

to the highest bidder we were sold

we were now property used as our owners wished

our lives would never reach their potential

men, women and children in the same family

separated never to see each other again

our inner anger was both hot and cold

we were hundreds, thousands and millions

merged into a continuous mass of slave flesh

whipped and chained if production was too low

fed the scraps and unwanted bowels of pigs

the light of freedom was endlessly on hold

decades passed while we dreamed of another world

one where we could rise and rise to any heights

we taught the truth of our ancestors and pride

and passed down to future generations a new life

they could not destroy the souls of the men of gold.

© Marc P. Anderson

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1P1710

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