Jailor

Born slave

I am a free man. The chains in my hands tell me otherwise, not the real chains, but the dangling chains from my Jailors. I scream in distress but the environmental influence of Africa keeps me bondaged. I yearn for the impossible. My Jailor said I can be who I want but its all tales fed to me to change my chains to invisible mental metals. I will change my country, and rise above Africa. The thought never leaves my head but the actions are a mile away. I clench my fist every morning, hating the black image staring back.

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