I didn’t know

when I saw the pale-skinned stranger

it was the end

of Everything

I didn’t know

I had already seen my mother’s belly

jelly with laughter

for the last time

I didn’t know

I’d never again feel the comforting thrum

of my father’s musical bass

as I lay next to his heart

I didn’t know

my friends and I would no longer chase and

play at the hunters

we thought we would become (We wouldn’t)

I didn’t know

I’d never again walk tall, strong and free

Instead, I shuffled, iron-yoked

on the long trek to the door of no return

I didn’t know

the terrible vastness of the endless sea

dwarfing the mighty river

where once I’d played

I didn’t know

a boat could be so huge and yet so narrow

a deadly prison

for my quivering form

I didn’t know

how much smaller I could squeeze my body

while failing to avoid the waste

of all those wasted lives

I didn’t know

I was now less – and more – than cattle

to be prodded, sold and branded

in the strangest of markets

I didn’t know

I’d lose the name I got from kings

to become someone

I barely recognized

I didn’t know

the legends that soothed my youth

would become whispered myths

reminding of what was lost

I didn’t know

I’d be used to create a fractured dynasty

with no connection

to the land I left

I didn’t know

I’d never see my home again

nor would my children

my children’s children

my children’s grandchildren’s grandchildren

If I had known

I would have stayed unseen

and fled that pale-skinned stranger

But I didn’t know