The Taste of Pain

A child's cry, a slave's scream,

The taste of sorrow, it's hard to redeem,

The smell of oppression, it lingers so strong,

The sight of injustice, it's been too long.

The taste of tears, the sound of chains,

The stench of sweat, the feel of pains,

The sight of suffering, so hard to bear,

The touch of abuse, a nightmare to share.

Innocence stolen, a childhood lost,

A tiny life, so heavy the cost,

The whips of abuse, they leave their mark,

A scar that will follow, a life that's dark.

For every child abused, a slave's pain is felt,

A history of trauma, it's hard to melt,

The sound of whips, the feel of scars,

The touch of trauma, a life behind bars,

The taste of bitterness, a legacy of hate,

The smell of fear, it's hard to escape.

But still we fight, still we stand,

To break the chains, to heal this land,

To taste the sweetness of liberty,

To see a world where all are free.

So let us use our senses, to feel the pain,

To see the truth, to hear the strain,

To taste the victory, to smell the change,

To touch the freedom, to make a range.