I get a mental image of a mass grave
Women beaten, tortured, and starved for days
Trafficked next door where they were raised
once worn out beaten, tortured and starved for days
left in a mass grave
Families continue to search
stricten with grief and insecure
Remorse and unsure
What’s continuing to look worth?
They’re not coming back
The rest of the world turns it back.
Epidemics of missing women is in the past
They write a paragraph in texts about that
So this current problem has been resolved.
There’s no issue no chaos
So the search is off
One less Indian squaw – the life givers
I get shivers thinking about shadowy figures of my sisters
Begging to be found.
So I continue the demand to look around
Until these women are freed or respectfully buried in the ground.
Women of one race but different faces
Different names, different places
It’s deeper than they make it
500 – just a statistic
No human element
There’s no embellishment
We gotta raise hell again
Mothers, sisters, aunties, daughters
cousins, nieces begging for food or water from the slave master who bought her