The Sole of a Soul

Step, step, step—
I walk the streets of Selma to obtain the unattained.
Whip, whip, whip—
The bone chilling voices of ancestors of plantation owners quiver down my spine.
Bark, bark, bark—
As the fierce dogs yell in disapproval, I fight on;
I fight on for the freedom, the rights, MY people's God given rights.
Clack, clack, clack—
Stress can be heard in my soles as my tiresome feet continue to walk the heat-consumed pavement.
Flash, flash, flash—
Reporters capture the momentous occasion;
An occasion my ancestors, breaking back and spirit in the cotton fields, could not fathom.
Pshh, pshh, pshh—
The northerners watch their free televisions, in their free cities and states;
They watch us Southern negroes march, in utter awe.
Splash, pain, splash—
A stinging sensation rattles my soul as the water hits us like a freight train, incapable of halt.
Snap, snap, snap—
Cuffs hug my frail wrists as tight as my mother did before the march.
The bars of the jail cell close behind this 020093 inmate; I am now slave once more.
Outrage, outrage outrage—
The chains that confine me, shall not be there for long.
Tweet, tweet, tweet—
Night bugs chatter in casual conversation outside of my cell window;
They speak not to themselves, but to me.
They say they come with an urgent message of “Thanks” from my ancestors.
Zzz, zzz, zzz—
I sleep with satisfaction and content knowing that the dream of my ancestors is one step closer to flourishing.
The pain of one day, is minute compared to the pain and strife of hundreds of years.
Overcome, overcome, overcome—
I have solidified my place in history.

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