Member-only story
The Branded
I heard that Julian Assange is free
I heard that the slaves had hot iron branded on their skin to signify ownership and to punish runaways
So it is that stamps do follow
Even if the skin is removed
There’s a scar that remembers
For the crime of not wanting to be slaves
For the crime of going against the state
They were left a token of bigoted disdain
Meant to remain as a stench that’ll follow them wherever they wandered
Today, branding is recognised as a sin of the past
Yet similar reasoning is adopted
Of tarnishing one’s enemies
With a stench that’ll follow
Whether crime or a manufactured charge
The effect remains the same
I heard that Julian Assange is free
Yet he was branded upon release
For the crime of reporting the truth
Against the owners of the truth
Just as the hot iron seared the skin
Leaving an indelible mark of oppression
Today’s words and accusations burn as deep
Carving scars that the eyes cannot see




