Tiny bare feet sink within cool white sand. Happy laughter filling another hot afternoon day as she tugs grandpapa's hands impatiently. He smiles, listening to that joyous sound clashing against gentle roars befitting wild oceans.
When sun sets, lessons are taught, knowing soon the ghosts will appear. Rheumy eyes blink back tears, while small fingers clasp wrinkled ones tightly. Several breathless moments, everything falls quiet until those voices whisper softly. Thousands crying for freedom, chained towards giant ships. Ancestors from long ago, singing melodic tunes filled with sorrow.
Lonely African shores tainted by blood, death, and dark promises of slavery.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.06 seconds at 12:34am on Dec 18, 2024 via server WEBX1.