I have wept the tears as I lost the ties to home,
I have broke my back with the day’s toils and pain.
I have looked on as my brothers in arms disappeared,
I have laid down for them in the most vulnerable of all ways
I have bared, then was left barren as the barrel rolled on.
I have sang the song in a false freedom, as I try to flap my clipped wings
I have swept and swept for Mrs. Becky, for I was nothing but the help.
I have hung my neck upon the strings of death,
They say it should be cold yet beneath my feet the flames would lick.
I have rose with my brothers in arms against a tyranny
To gain our wings to fly, and our voice to sing.
I have countered the It and uprooted a culture never before seen
I have been striped of my being and driven into the darkness
For they say that is where I belong.
I have been chased into the dark alley and learned to hush
For I have no one to listen.
I have flapped my wings which crumble at the weight they carry.
For I carry the roots of my soul lost in a haze of dessitude,
The spirits of my sisters, which pain echoes deep within,
The load of my brothers for they cannot do so,
The dark colors that run deep in my veins and others
Distinguishing us as gods and goddess, yet reducing us as nothings.
For I have come to realize that through the door death
will I be able to drop it all
Until then, I must walk through the darkness that holds me deep within,
Unseal my lips in the dark alley, rebuild myself from the pile of strips,
Sing the song of freedom though my voice is weak
And flap my wings in pursue though they are clipped.
For I have done and shall do but from this day forth only for me.