1831

Location

 Back then, I was the color of coal

 

Chained and whipped with a lash

 

Now all I have is my dignified soul

 

With an exterior of bloody ash 

 

I work from dusk till early dawn 

 

My hands ache from the pain of it all

 

The others let out a simple yawn

 

But Alas! They are puppet masters - and I their doll

 

Oh, how I wish for freedom to come one day 

 

For I cannot simply run away

 

The gun would shoot me, don't you see?

 

With the pesky silver bullets it holds

 

If I ever walk away free

 

I'll fall along the roads knocked out cold 

 

I fear for death, for what comes after it?

 

God shall save me sometime soon I suppose 

 

Sure, they have brawns yet I have wit

 

But should I sleep for eternity or a short doze 

 

I am lying here still in pain

 

So what else do I have to gain 

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