Lash! A stroke landed on my sour back
I wanted to cry but my eyes were dried
The sun was looking right down at me
My master wiped and the sun drained
Miles of open field I walked each day
As the master ride along and continues to wipe
For when I scream, he smiled
And in enticement, he wiped even harder
By the number of strokes on our back
Ours years were counted
For in mine, lets just say
I was an old man
Freedom, we never knew
Since no one had introduced us to her
The Cotton was our lives
And the master was our god
A day in the field
Wasn’t just a day
But our way of life
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Reviews of "A Day On the Cotton Field"
Reviewed by Kia Pooler (Reader)
Reviewed on March 21, 2010
This Poem is very powerful and it really speaks to me
powerful, heartbreaking write! so sad how we treated your ancestors, as a white person, i hang my head in shame. i am so sorry for what my ancestors have done! >tears < (((HUGS))) and much love, your tx. friend, karen lynn. :(
There is no way to ask for forgiveness for such abominations.
If there is salvation to be found it will be in all of us coming
to realize that the condition of being human carries with it the
potential signature of becoming either the master or the slave; one only need take in the world-wide legacy of Slavery historically to see it can happen to anyone, anywhere. Brilliantly painted. Vicky
It is a shame such things ever were...and even sadder that, while we have curbed them here, so many in other lands fair little better. We can only hope that someday soon such foul treatment of others will end for all people. This is very moving and thought provoking. All good things to you and yours.
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Sandie Angel a.k.a. May Lu :o(
If there is salvation to be found it will be in all of us coming
to realize that the condition of being human carries with it the
potential signature of becoming either the master or the slave; one only need take in the world-wide legacy of Slavery historically to see it can happen to anyone, anywhere. Brilliantly painted. Vicky