Hearing the crack of a whip... from across the field where cotton was picked...red blood flowed after...lashes given by the taskmaster...swinging away so hard...he would see stars...earning his stripes with every strike a stripe leaving scars...a master at whipping...wiping his brow...tired down...by the attempts of his affliction...but there was no submission...the on lookers were strengthened...a ribbon tied on our past to present a new beginning...
Wise_Notion
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Stars...Stripes...and Strikes
CATEGORY
life
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