future dreams transformed
into past nightmares;
present pain engulfs blood
clotted veins;
eventually intricate plots were
the cause of stunted growth,
like pant on trees,
weed stopped the process
of goals achieved;
dungeons perceived as lost themes
and forgotten theories;
black history is a long ago mystery
of shackles and misery,
whips and adultery,
master and slave,
raped and caged,
locked shipped and sold away;
without the blink of a blue eye,
picking cotton in bundles,
knees and knuckles numb,
not breaks or luncheons,
just taters and mustard
for nights supper;
don't tell me JACK!
about suffering unless
when you pass cotton fields
you can empathize with
the way a slain slave soul feels!