No Longer a Victim?


That’s my name.

Who am I, you ask?

The victim of your cruel game

The victim of your cruel game.

That’s who I am.

The one whose life you’ve completely screwed over.

The one whose life you’ve made a mockery and a sham.

You tell me its God’s plan

to make me suffer like this?

To have me toil and get abused

while you live your life in luxury and bliss?

You tell me that I don’t deserve

don’t deserve to go to heaven.

That I don’t belong in the skies,

not even on the last one of the seven.

You Southern slaveowners,

how are you able to sleep at night?

Knowing that you’ve tortured me,

left me in a sorrowful plight?

Oh, you Yankees,

don’t think you’re off the hook.

I see all your cruelties too.

To explain, should I write a book?

Your ignorance is just as bad.

With your silence, you kill.

God bless those handful of you

who’ve boosted, even more, our will.

‘All men are created equal’

Isn’t that what your constitution says?

Then, why do I sit here

and with my blood, why do I pay?

With my blood and sweat, why do I pay

for not looking the same as you do?

Just cuz of my darker skin,

look at what you put me through!

Word on the street is that from the Nation,

the South people left.

They wanted to continue enjoying

their wealth of our captured rights from theft.

Why was I dragged into this?

I wasn’t even at fault.

Instead of being a freaking puppet animal,

I wished my breathing would just halt.

But before I died,

I wished to him once more.

The runaway apple of my eye,

one of the only beings I adore.

My son, Benjamin.

He ran away cuz all the pain.

I didn’t know where he is now,

didn’t know if I’ll see him again.

He may not come back,

he may not be alive.

All thanks to that bloodhound bill

that together, you all connived.

Tell me I’m wrong

that those fugitive slave laws were right!

That its okay to fill that only leftover space

with even more fright.

And I still remember watching

all of you in haste.

The rush to win the war

to continue to chain us by our waists.

Well, I’m glad you lost.

You deserved that defeat and way more.

I hope Lincoln punishes you

to the point when your own faces, you begin to abhor.

I didn’t know my ABC’s until now

Didn’t know that I am not to blame.

Didn’t know that I actually have a life

that I can rightfully claim.

And now I sit here and laugh

Laugh at your sad sad lives.

How yesterday, you were all so “powerful”

and today, you’re struggling to survive.

Struggling to survive without me,

without the help of our “inferior” race.

You can’t even feed yourselves now

so tell me on the social hierarchy, where is your place? 

If our race you so badly despised,

then why did you need us?

Take care of your own daughters and sons.

About working, why make such a fuss?

Obviously, you’ll never get over yourselves.

Never will you admit that you were, indeed, wrong.

But I know that now

that by your feet, I no longer belong.

I am one,living in the North.

Won’t let you take advantage of me.

Won’t let you trap me into  some sharecropping agreement

that lets go to my right to be free.

You thought I didn’t know about that?

O you are so mistaken.

Keep in mind,

a lot of us have awakened.

I am watching my poor

brothers and sisters.

still toiling hard for you,

still getting on their body, those blisters.

How can you still continue that

horrible and cruel practice your peculiar institution?

All you did was change its name to share cropping

yet it still spreads this inhumane pollution.

But don’t worry.

One day, we’ll prevail.

from ashes, we’ll rise.

We’ll be victorious after our fails.

So, Hi. Linda,

That’s my name.

Who am I, you ask?

No longer the victim of your cruel game.


One thought on “No Longer a Victim?

  1. That was super good. I really liked how you wrote it in a poem, and also the poem itself is amazing. It also did have a lot of information of the lives of freed blacks in the South after the Civil War. Really good all the way around. Nice job!

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