Poetry, A black man's book, ( Diary )
They ' ain't ever ' gona break my spirit.
I watched a documentary on TV, relaying the story of Africans being brought to America, schackled and used as forced labor in the 18th. century. This is one man's story.
I'm on a ship sailing away from the only home i'd ever known, Africa
I was one of a hundred captured, shackled together and put down in a hole on the ship to row toward a place called America
I heard the white man say, " row you bastard row
We rowed as fast as we could
Lord so hot down here below
The white man stood over us cursin'
Whippn' our backs if we ' was too slow
So we rowed real fast with all our might
Our childrn' off to the right
In a room where there ' ain't no light
I see women cryin'. I see grown men shamed and full of fright
I feel the whip a snappin' as we tried our best to rest
I see fear
I see proud men's puffed- up chest
They ' ain't ever ' gonna break our spirit's so we rowed faster and faster
As we say, " Yer Sir Master "
We ' ain't ' gonna quit rowin' I hear a young man say
Our families are ' gona need us
When we get there someday
The white man with the big house came to look us over when we finally reached shore
I knew because i was big and strong
I'd be worth a whole lot more
I hear one man say, " I'll pay top dollar for that muscled young Buck, looks as strong as a dragon
I saw a young beautiful girl cryin'
When the old man shoved her in his wagon
Our childrn' was sold to the highest bidder
Choosin' the strongest
What the man called the best from the litter
I ' ain't got no more time for writen' in this here book
Prayin' someone someday will read it and know we made it, even learned to read and write
Only the Lord knows just how many souls it took
Before the white man saw the light.
I deleted this hub months ago, after reading it this morning i would like to replubish it again. I have many new followers who may want to read this story.
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