A Tear Ran Dry

A freestyle with a bit of rhyming thrown in. Enjoy!



A tear ran dry,
Formed from the backs of slaves.
Too late to cry,
Their death has been made.

Never too late to mourn,
Their fate watches as stars.
Their life has been torn,
But their souls walk far.

Cease, cease,
The child cried.
Peace, peace,
I wish they tried.

Blood dripped from his back,
White streaks across his shoulder.
No caring, no compassion,
If only they could see the other side.

What was different about them?
Their skin? Their face?
What disgrace.

History,
A blank page in a huge book.
The past is open,
But memories they trail behind.