Reversal Poem by Zaria Fallenrise

I remember dat day, I was Yer Dark Slave
Bounded by the iron chains around my ankles so I wouldn’t run away
But I had no place to go anyway
Yet ya kept me closed, My Pale Master.

Yer cold eyes always lookin’ around in this mansion of yers
Hopin’ to catch me lazyin’ ‘bout ‘round
And put me back to work.

Ya whipped my back [my body in the rags yer other servants made me]
for my disobedience when I couldn’t even stand up,
ya always whipped me in fact yet I do not know why.

Is it the color of my chocolate and caramel skin?
Compared to ya porcelain and flawless flesh?
Is it my rags ya gave me or the clothes ya wore from them the fancied seamstresses?
Is it my life is so poor and yours is so rich?
It is I live in that rack near the crop fields and even sometime in the cellar basement?
It is this grand marble mansion with painting and portraits with gold dripping from the ceilings,
Silver forks and plates and spoons and knives,
Even the glass vases with outrageous exotic flowers in them waters?

Oh Master just you wait until someday.

But that one day came
as our roles changed.
Now I’m Your Master
And You are My Slave.