Nightmare Poem by Kewayne Wadley

Nights like these,
I wake up drenched in sweat.
My heart pounds like the sound of thunder.
Crackling through the sky.
I toss and I turn.
Awakened by the shackles around my wrists.
My throat, My feet.
Pleasant dreams seem so far away.
The liberation which constitutes freedom.
Premeditated notions, chained down by the sound of your voice.
Making things bigger than they are,
Punishing me for your own short comings
Screaming demands, cracking the whip
Inciting a sense of fear.
A senseless lashing of threats.
Poured on by you. Scar after scar.
Your selfish desires,
I am not a pariah
I am not property, I cannot be brought with selfish gifts nor sold for your pleasure.
The atrocities committed behind open doors.
Theses shackles cut my wrist.
You see but don't see,
You hear but don't hear, My cries for freedom.
Forcing me to drink from the rivers which I have a strong distaste.
I've drowned myself in prayer, only to wake and still see traces of your face.
Nights like this, I pray for better days.
Nights like this, I turn to the diplomacy of my feet.
Running away from the dictatorship of you
And you alone