Our Lost Sons

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I once knew a man, of our skin who offered many of our sons to those white visitors from faraway lands, to leave and never return home.
Whenever we asked him "why?" He always said "Worry not brothers, when they get there, many grand feasts will be prepared for them by the white men."

Posted in reply to jayna@jayna's writing challenge. Prompt: 'feast'

The pictures used are from pixabay.com

Our Lost Sons | Ecency