A Slave's Words

I'm a prisoner
We let down our guard
Now there's no more freedom
But who's to blame?

I rue there fame,
They shouldn't make
History to this day,

They took me from the
Motherland stolen
In misery
Oh, what a savage at hand.

Now my days are numbered
As we slumbered up under the sun,
Picking up cotton
When I feel like picking up a gun
And ending my all,
But still I wait for the star
To guide me toward freedom.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Poem speaks for itself.

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