Soulful Strut
feet marching to the heavens
where dreams and martyrs dwell
where freedom plays its fife
in the rhythm of darkness
chains and whips begone
rituals of rope and poplar trees as well
these cudgels are no longer my legacy
on shoulders of the past
this heir who knows
how I counter could be my lot
could be my hell
Copyright © Ricky Muse | Year Posted 2020
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