In Celebration of Black History Month: A poem #1

 


Slavery Poem

In celebration of Black History month, I offer two poems. 

Any time I'm given an opportunity to feature another creative writer, I will. Wilfred Nettles is a gifted poet. He has allowed these poems to be posted here along with another titled: 'I Am Poverty', listed under Four Freedoms. (posted with permission)


SLAVERY


I came to the country in shackles and chains.

Taken from my home for the white man's gains.

I was bought and sold like an animal for his hide or his meat,

Not knowing where I was going or what fate I would meet.

 

Separated from my family when I was only a child

The pain was so great my face never knew a smile.

Working in the fields from sun up to sun down,

The man with the whip always being around.

There were many others who looked just like me,

Praying to their God to set them free.

But the next day came and it was back to the fields,

Working from sun up to sun down at the white man's will.

 

I pray that my children will have it better than me.

I pray they will know what it means to be free.

Having a family to which they belong,

A Mother and a Father to teach them right from wrong.

Never suffering pain from the white man's hand.

Never saying the word master, no not ever again.

Being able to make a life for themselves.

Never being a slave for anyone else.

 

I was born black, I was born a slave,

But the world has benefitted from the gifts I gave.

And no greater reward can be given to me,

Than to know in my heart that I am really free.


~Wilfred Nettles

Copyrighted


Photo Courtesy of Nsey Benajah


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