No one will cry when I’ve left this earth
And no one will tend my grave.
No loving thoughts by family or friends,
For I’ve lived my life as a slave.
Torn from my home at a tender young age
And promised good times ahead:
Smiles, kind words and presents from all
But now I wish I was dead.
Beatings and burnings, long hours of toil;
Scorching hot irons that brand.
Chains and whips, windows with bars;
Working at others’ commands.
'You mustn’t shed tears for family and friends
Or we’ll lock you up on your own.'
For me, no soft pillow for my little head,
In a world very far from my home.
So don’t cry for me when I leave this earth
For death will be better than this
And I’ll soon be replaced by another small child
Sent off with a hug and a kiss.
Copyright on all my poems
I'm horrified to think that in this modern age, and especially in a democratic, free country like the UK, slavery still exists. It must be one of the most horrific things.
This poem, with its important message, was also appreciated by teachers in West Yorkshire, who chose it, along with almost 400 poems for publication in 2010. Josie