gutted

finest piece he had ever carved
he looked it over
feeling pride swell in his chest

isn't labour of love
one good motivation?
giving it a final polish

drying it out
he carefully hid it
tears of joy spilling over

next few days
he waited for the right time
trying to seek out her,

his own flesh and blood
a convenient playmate
for his master's daughter

life took an unexpected turn
for no misdemeanour of hers
his daughter was sold to settle a bet

he threw the carving
smashing it on the wall
his heart broken to pieces

"dry tears of sorrow spilled nowhere"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To know where it came from, read my review of Roots by Alex Haley and my subsequent poem, slaves to whom? after reading it.