Collavy Road

I don't know how I got there
but I knew I had no choice, I had to stay,
at least til I was purchased here on Collavy Road.
I was being sold to a man for a handful of gold,
thus is the price of one human life
along Collavy Road.

While awaiting the sell of my flesh
I spied a lad, maybe of eight,
he was taking a morning stroll down Collavy Road,
he saw me, and what was taking place, then shook his head with sadness
giving me hope for humanity
till he said with truth filled voice,
"Always junk is sold here on Collavy Road."

Purchase complete, I was shoved down at the buyers feet,
my shackles clinked and clanged as I dropped hard
echoing across Collavy Road
singing the tune of another slave trade done,
a tune which was sung repeatedly in the past
here on Collavy Road.

Years later a war was fought and I was set free
to do with myself what I please,
so I set out to where it began for me, Collavy Road;
upon my arrival, I was spied with many eyes, cursed and taunted; then finally beaten.
As times change for the better, things seemed to remain the same
here on Collavy Road.

Years have past since that day
and the name of the street changed.
Though every sight remained the same, no longer is it called Collavy Road;
but when I think of the life I was forced to start with the exchange of a handful of gold,
forever in my heart will it be known
as Collavy Road.