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Emancipation

I bathe in the sweat of my labor, Tilling the land of my master, In pain,the whip strips my honor, For in afflictions my dreams do shatter, My eyes are sore from slavery's bound, But freedom my fragile heart sounds, Breaking grounds,my strong limbs pound, As in my fears, I no more drown, With the spirit of the butterfly I would rise, Walking the streets of dignity my labors do I price, With will power,the path of freedom do I stride, Fighting my adversary as my vision gets in sight, Strength weakens as my days grow old, Relishing my short time of gold, To my descendants, the stories are told, Enabling them, their potentials do unfold

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 8/6/2009 3:21:00 AM
a wish to document....with much Grace is spoken, james
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Date: 8/6/2009 1:47:00 AM
very nice... a good read. Enjo your day.
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Date: 8/4/2009 10:32:00 AM
Good afternoon . I enjoyed reading your wonderful poem today. Love, Carol
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things