C. Albert Andrews
Cries, screams from children
Dried mouth, thirsty and hungry
Packed in horse drawn carts
Like little herrings
Yanked from their parents
Taken from one plantation
To another plantation.
Masters wore hats
And carried umbrellas
Slaves had none
Their backs baked by intense heat
From the sun
And scars from daily torture.
Age and illness
Did not matter
Each slave had a quota,
Fell short of that
They had to suffer
Harsh lashes from the master.
When caught talking or even looking
They received whipping
And sometimes starving.
No child's play on the plantations
Children had to be tough
Just like grown-ups.
Education, unheard of!
If caught reading, or even trying
Means a serious flogging
All day just cotton picking
Sun rise to sun set
Slaves in the field sweating.
Little hands with cuts and calluses
Feet like crust with heels cracking
Some looked aged
A few their age
No doubt, slavery was more than pain,
Indeed our ancestors did suffer shame.
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Comments about this poem (Plantation Pains by C. Albert Andrews )
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