Broken Chains

Forged from the weakest flames,
I am worked to the core. My blade dull and blunt,
only to be left on the floor to rust.
At the moment, I am safe
till pale hands haul me up
only to hammer me back down.
My spirit splintered; my confidence whipped.

Is this who I was meant to be?
Is this my life?
No... I am more than this.
More than a slave.
More than a tool.

No longer will I be whipped.
No chain will ever touch me.
No whip will ever harm me.
No person will command me.

I will rise through the ashes of
the fallen, a new man.
A man who broke his chains.
A man who will not bow.
A free man!
Wield this tool not,
for I have no master.

*a poem about slavery

- Lame-O