1865

Tue, 03/05/2013 - 12:29 -- Ktyunek

Location

64850
United States
36° 51' 8.1396" N, 94° 22' 37.452" W

The smoke burns
My throat is sore
Daddy says run
But they’re doing more.
I never knew
How bad it was
How much hurt
Came from us.
‘Cause Daddy says
This is okay.
And any lies
They will say.
To get me
To let them go
They’re just lazy
Daddy told me so,
But there’s a girl,
Not five years old
Who’s Momma’s hand
She’ll never hold.
Her momma ran
With her baby
Daddy punishes
Those who say
That we are wrong
And they are right
‘Cause they ain’t people,
So why fight?
But I see
The look in her
That I had long
Long referred
As Momma’s love
Torn to shreds
By an evil man
With hate in his bed.
They say the war
Will be over soon,
I sure hope
That they free them, too.
I burned the house,
With Daddy in
I saved them all,
I carried the kid.
The smoke burns
My throat is sore.
He says they’re slaves
And nothing more.

Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda

Powerful expression! 

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