Email Poem

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Poem

I'm the owner of a large plantation
From generations has been passed down
On my property, close to a hundred slaves
Need I mention it's in the South

My slaves all know their place
Though I know they all love me
Cause I don't beat them when I want
I just beat them when I need, tied to the Whipping Tree

Lately I've heard the slaves a whispering
There's definitely something going on
I'm pretty sure I know what it is
My birthday's soon to come

They must be planing for me a party
I'll act surprised when that day comes
They fall all over themselves to please me
Not just because I'm the one that holds the gun

So here it is my birthday
I awake looking for my help
They are nowhere to be seen
Who's going to run my bath for me, I can't do this for myself

Then it is that I remember
About my big birthday surprise
I run expectantly out to the front yard
But find nobody in sight

So I head down to their one room shack
Where they all sleep on the cold dirt floor
Readying myself for my birthday surprise
I swing wide the wooden front door

I see no cake, they sing me no song 
The surprise they have for me
Is the noose they throw around my screaming neck
As they hang me from the whipping tree

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