Sometimes

I think I need to revisit my work and make changes but then I remember that I write things as I feel at that moment and in relation to the situations going round at the time.  Often my work offends and other times my choice of words aren't quite right, but it's my work and how I write.  Anyway for today we have a piece that came from a story about slavery in Liverpool.

Without me you are nothing

You sit in your big house

I stand chained to a wall

You are surrounded by family

My family are lost to me

You are clothed in great finery

I am in rags

You eat salmon and quail

My food is stale bread

You drink good wine and ale

I have stagnant water

You have skin which is clean and unblemished

My skin is scarred from whips and chains

You sleep lying in your great bed

I stand sleeping in a niche in the wall

You have warmth and light

For me only cold and darkness

You have great financial wealth

I have great poverty

You are deemed to be the better person

Yet without me you would have nothing

You are my master

I am your slave.

Freda Brodie (date unknown)