Ttribute To Slavery Poem by AMITAVA MAZUMDAR

My skin is black
Yes, sir blackened by tropical sun
Nothing I’ve white, whiter like
You, except my dentine

Centuries have passed
Like rolling cans filled with moments
My back was lashed with
I would’ve liberty but I bents

I was changed hands
Masters to whom I paid for
Sometimes in the plantations,
Sometimes in the householdchore

When I walked alone to have some air
the grass beneath my steps
led me towards- nowhere

I felt a low life, a disdained being
Often thrashed and beaten miserably
When sweat and blood dripped like a slow rain

I’m a slave, have a master
The destiny of mine is on his hands
Before I could escape from all the shackles
Free to be man -better

The family I left without a bid
I was transported to the south
Even farther down where my past was stolen
And then nothing, for myself I could did

My childhood became a haunted field
I ploughed everyday, furlongs a many
With those weak hands, I tamed the wild cattle
I’was drifting like a rainless cloud, sometimes stilled.