Found Poem: Things I Wish I Never Knew
Slaves are recognized as property,Must bear all things and resist nothing.I would look at the birds as they flew,Think it strange that the poor negro only was held in bondage.
There was the fear that I might be sold away.My friends were not numerous, but they were dear.Thought that I might be separated from them,Like having the heart torn from its socket.
To know that I was never to consult my own will,To be entirely under the control of another,All things made me feel that I was a slave.It preyed upon my heart like a never-dying worm.
There were poor white lads,Belonging to families scattered around.They did not have to be controlled by a master.Why this difference?
I was the equal of these poor whites.We were greatly wronged.This talk about honesty wasAll gammon.
I knew myself to be a slave.I knew many other things before I knew that.For a time there was nothing to disturb me.As I grew larger I learned.
These were distressing revelations.It was intolerable, haunted me.I dreaded the thought, always with fear.This among the heaviest of my childhood’s sorrows.
The degradation, the wrongsThat grow out of slavery,More than I can describeGreater than you would willingly believe.
There was the fear that I might be sold away.My friends were not numerous, but they were dear.Thought that I might be separated from them,Like having the heart torn from its socket.
To know that I was never to consult my own will,To be entirely under the control of another,All things made me feel that I was a slave.It preyed upon my heart like a never-dying worm.
There were poor white lads,Belonging to families scattered around.They did not have to be controlled by a master.Why this difference?
I was the equal of these poor whites.We were greatly wronged.This talk about honesty wasAll gammon.
I knew myself to be a slave.I knew many other things before I knew that.For a time there was nothing to disturb me.As I grew larger I learned.
These were distressing revelations.It was intolerable, haunted me.I dreaded the thought, always with fear.This among the heaviest of my childhood’s sorrows.
The degradation, the wrongsThat grow out of slavery,More than I can describeGreater than you would willingly believe.
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