Old horrible racist slavery

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By librawoman

I am helpless in my defense what they do is such a crime. They whip us until our skin is scars and beat us all the time. The things I always hear at night are the white men laughing near. If we talk then we're in trouble it makes me live in fear. They are always overworking us until it's dark outside. When we are there sleeping we always try to hide. You'll never want to see my back it's full of nasty scars. They say if I don't work again, I'm living behind bars. I lived that way all my life until the yankee soliders came. Then we all became free and the white men lived in shame.

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March 26, 2006 01:11librawoman

This poem is not about me, and I am not black. But this was the first poem I ever wrote when I was 15 for one of my classes in school. So I thought I would share it.