Written By Linda A. Knowles
Running as fast as she can,
Needing to run…
Dashana’s world is one of slavery.
A thankless task,
Where she labors is Pressureland Plantation,
And though she runs,
The plantation does not outrun her strides.
Tears she shed were countless,
And on so many occasions,
She broke down.
Her tears seemed endless,
And to the Taskmasters,
the tears were another reason to beat and flog her;
To the Taskmasters her tears were insignificant, meaningless, pointless.
Dashana would always be a slave,
Responding to their every whim,
Surrendering to the point of literally bringing her to her knees.
Yet only one sees her heart as she breaks another run,
And as she lets loose another flood of tears.
Can anyone hear her screaming?
The silent scream that pierces through the darkness…
To reach other horizons,
Where the sunlight is found,
And she wonders will she ever find the freedom she yearns for.