Fredrick Douglas


United States
39° 43' 58.764" N, 75° 40' 44.3676" W

The Whipping of my body, tattered
Will never leave my soul a’battered
I will one day ascend these fields
And see this country for what it yields
Not to slave, but to citizen
To the brave, who peril this denizen
With long and curling tendrils of hate
While we are left, to dangle as bait
So that prejudice’s thirst may be quenched
So that this country’s heart may not be wrenched
And picked like the cotton, and torn apart by gin
But healed and mended from this dubious sin
That travels miles and jumps o’er canyon
That sneaks up to man and robs him of companion
His freedom, for which all are endowed
But for a period, only the selected are allowed
To enjoy this life, while We toil
To wield the knife, while We boil
In these fields of hate, and of servitude
With sweat filled body, and implements so crude
But do not rise up my brother
Not with spear or saber in hand
Because with their whip they uncovered
This slavery of which we understand
Become all that you can, in this life so grand
And become the better man
Use your voices silenced by clattered chain
Use your minds though sheltered by nettled pain
Sing the song, unsung, of exodus
Pray to the God who will one day deliver us
From this prison of open air
So that this race can again repair
From this use of oppression so ignorant
So that this low hum can become the ascended descant
Join we, oh brother and sister of He
And look up to Him and see
Though we lay shackled in misery
Though you feel alone, we are one
We are many

Poetry Slam: 



thank you ancestor for your place and your fight for the black human race!

Clio Texana

Very, very well done!  I love how you have kept up a 19th century voice and feeling throughout. 

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