Not In Chains

I endure pains,
all the bullets and bombs they gave,
but not in chains.

Her promise stains.
She beats me until I behave.
I endure pains.

Locked, with remains
of dead buffalo, in a cave,
but not in chains.

Fed poisoned grains,
unhealthy food meant to deprave;
I endure pains.

He who detains,
cuts my flesh with a bloody wave–
but not in chains.

Anger retains
as life continues as a slave.
I endure pains,
but not in chains.

Copyright 2012
A. J. Hayes
Give a poet a pen