Oppression

A woman walked into the cemetery with tears in her eyes, a rose in the right, and a letter in the left. She sat by a tomb with the name chiseled away. As she looked a smile came across her face, but sorrow was still present. She placed the rose on where the name was removed and started to read her letter. It read,”

I felt it. Your presence is like the wool over sheep’s eyes. You had me see the chalk outline on the streets that turned into a sinister shadow figure at my door. Your eyes had me see the view of blacks just another notch on Massa’s belt. Just another nigger to add to the collection of abuse. The force from your hands has authority to make me not rise from my bed. How are you doing this and you are gone?

     The ring from the grand clock is the gunshot from your hand. The murmur near my backside is your voice from my knockout. The chill from the meadows is the breeze on my scars. Numb, so the pain can cease. Comfort, to let me know that death has not taking his place.

     You were not the same ink as I. Color was why our relationship was appalling. Your mindset places me in an abysmal scenery that I never thought I would see or experience. I see you as an individual and not by a monster, but you reminded me of a never changing rough draft. Every line was unusual, never corrected, and your ending was not concluded.

     Your accident frightened me, stunned me, and gave me a sense of joy. Your accident gave me a check for the unseen illusions, but vicious facts in the depth of my mind. The illusions say,” Our lifestyle was great. The teachings you grew up with were immoral. The abuse was love and comfort. You loved him as he loved you.” Vicious facts countered,” Love!? Baby you were used, abused, and been treated so cruel. This was no accident; it was a misfortune upon him.”

     Stunned?! Don’t worry; you had my body, broken my spirit, but you never had my soul. Your misfortune was not by me. It was by your further manacles you thought you destroyed. The one you laid on the pathway of wondering souls; your previous devotee and fatality. The night you slept, I prayed for your demise. Found the ex devotee you once despise. She came to my plea and your last breathe was with the same sight we saw daily, darkness.

     With you departed from this life, your other fatalities are release from your dark spiritual presence you positioned on them. Released from the chains you had on them. Released from your authority you once had on them.

     You will always have your brand on us and for days to come, but your brand will not be placed on every man I see. “

     She stood from the ground and look on the horizon. Her husband came to comfort her. His poised demeanor placed a shade over the grave and held her with these words leaving from his lips,” Honey! I know your tears are from dreadful recollections. Please, let me restore your broken heart. Let me be the man that he never was. Let me show you what first-class love is all about. As God is my witness, you will know 3 things. You are beautiful, you shall always love you more than anything, and God loves you through all your faults.” She gazed upon him like a sliver knight on a white horse. Their hands joined together as a heart of steel and walked away on glowing path of faith.