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Slavery
Cuz I was that black slave
I was that black mother
Who slaved away to teach her child to
Read and write in the middle of the night
At the sound of the whippoorwill
And the croak of the bullfrogs
Held in these invisible chains of steel
Forced to pick cotton in the burning sun
Continuing to work after the day was done
Binding the wounds on his back
And because of the black and the way he
Talked back
His child has to watch his pain
Being dragged away on the devil's slave chain
Blood gushing from his body
From the blows given by his massa'
His egotistical self would not shut up and work faster
She works and stays quiet
Her lungs full of disease
Still she finds strength to teach that child his
ABCs
Till that fateful day, dark as the grave
She has to watch her child get sold away
His skin was a beauty and
His hair was a fright
The white men, they want him because of
His might
A strapping lad not easily tired
Growing up to be just like his sire
He too feels the sting of the strap on his skin
Filled with defiance, he raises his chin
The cycle goes on, the chains don't break
The liberty comes in the groans she makes
For her child
And his father
To teach the alphabet why did she bother
She wanted her child someday to be free
Be the great man he was meant to be
At the sound of the whippoorwill
And the croak of the bullfrogs
She feels her agony complete
And dies in pain at her massa's feet
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I wrote this during school hours, thinking about African-American history.