Voice Of A Modern Day Slave
When not in the fields I reside in a box confined in solitude, overcrowded by thoughts. Those who oversee me, smile cheesily as they walk, yet we never talk. Is this because I’m antisocial, or they’re utterly rude? Well that’s a determination left to be made solely by you. I’ve witnessed life, death and have no fear. Only losing the little that I have, so I strive to make greatness of each moment, as who knows how long it’ll last. I was snatched from my family, held for ransom they couldn’t pay. Sailed away to this unfamiliar place reminiscent of plantations in the year 1638. I was stripped naked of my identity and clothes, given a number, severely punished if not doing as told. Chained head to toe like Kunta Kente to ensure that I behave. Threatened with the whip in the form of tasers and pepper sprays if ever my heart feels brave. Fed slop from a trough like pigs, no choice of my plate. 1,000 calories total from 2 meals a day, after laboring heavily for 10 hours receiving naught for my pay. Damn, it’s 2020 and we’re still living this way! Composing soulful Raps reminiscent of negro spirituals at the end of the day. Secretly forming circles where for freedom we pray. Detoured by men with canes if I ever was to contemplate escape. Uncle Toms, Aunt Jeminas and Kunta Kente’s still exist today but instead of slaves, they call us inmates!...
Composed by Albert Smith 2020
See all poetry for Albert Smith #197527