My ancestors traveled in chains,
Straightway to fields of sugar cane
Programmed to obey ceaseless commands,
They labor on an accursed land.
Broken down and insecure,
Enslaved to masters by fear.
Relatives long forgotten.
To Generations now born,
No longer enslaved, no longer scorned.
Venerate these relatives long forgotten.
At their sacred altars kneel,
While bells of family unity peal.
Mindful of their painful past
Close generational chasm, ever last
Tenacious, triumphal survivors.
Ashley Croker-Benn, Grade 12