Title: My Song
by Eniola from Lancashire | in writing, poetry
MY SONG
When I was a child
I ate my pain for breakfast
My ache for lunch
And my sorrow for supper
But as I grew up
I found a reason
To live
A reason to rejoice
A reason to sing
This was
My song of redemption
My song of peace
My song of freedom
Why surfer surfed (sign of freedom as the wave of the sea thrust them about)
I was bound in chains
When lords and ladies sang a song of riches
My songs were songs of slavery.
When will I be free?
When will I see the sun again?
When will I raise my hands in freedom?
And sing freely on the streets of sorrow
When will my days of sorrow be over?
And my victory song sang
Sir, your tea's ready
A whip on my back
Sir, What about my Money
I land in jail and whipped hard
Till
My skin is ripped from my back
And my spirit from
My Soul
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