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by Robin M. Buehler
Enslaved by color, I did not want
These chains that bind me
To the color of my skin.
Indebted to masters unbefitting,
Links forever strung together
To duties expected of me.
Dreams of freedom, just out of reach.
Words of wisdom carried by wind:
Follow the patterns, hung out to dry.
Spoke of the way north: to safety
And the land of the truly free.
Stitch by stitch, the story unfolds
In swatches and patterns
Unveiled by someone's loving hands.
Sitting by candle light;
Others by fires,
They speak of freedoms
Wanted by all mankind:
Branded upon my brain.
Taken as a child,
Away from my family,
My world and my home.
Across the turbulent ocean
To the land of Liberty.
Sold into bondage, eternally enslaved
With the hopes of one day walking free.
Words of wisdom spoken in whispers,
Told of rails underground:
Follow the pattern, hung out to dry.
Swatch by swatch sown together
Into a hand-stitched heirloom
As past generations found
Their way to freedom.