Originally Posted by
DRayVan
A post-Civil-War account of a freed slave taking care of his former master's son who was gravely wounded in that war.
“Hey, boy.
Come here, boy”
Dem words
stir a fire in
ma soul
I’s is old enough
ta be his grandpappy,
yet he calls me, “boy”
Anger swells
inside o’ me
A whack or two wid a
belt will teach
him what’s right,
but the Good Book says,
“Turn da utter cheek”
But what’s
turnin’ da cheek
gonna git ya?
Slap on
da utter one,
that’s what
Been steppin’ and fetchin’
all ma life. ‘Tweren’t
wees set free?
Musta missed that somehow,
‘cause I’s ain’t never
seen real freedom
Stop complainin’ ya old fool.
Ya had a good life: wid
yo wife, yo kids, yo job, yo Lord.
Ain’t like dis lump o’ flesh,
all mean inside and hateful like
“Come here when
I call you, boy”
Doin’ thisn’ dat fer him, and
he don’t never thanks me, not once
I’s feeds him, bathes him, and wipes his butt,
still I’s ain’t his “boy”
Like dirt under his boot,
that’s all I’s is to him
At times, I’s could rip his face off,
that’s when I’s needs ta pray
“Lord, take this hate
I’s feels in ma heart
“Yes, I’s knows ‘tis wrong,
still I’s feels it just the same
“Deep inside it hurts, Lord,
but he don’t knows no better
“Raised that way, I’s guess, wid prejudices and such
yet I’s can’ts hardly stands it, what he says ta me
“I’s can walks away from him, but
he can’ts from me
“Ya see, he’s gots no legs, no arms, no mo’
“Lost dem in da war, and
lost his wife too--she’s upped and walked away
“He’s gots no family neither:
parents been gone some time
“And I’s ain’t so much, Lord,
but I’s is all he’s gots
“He’s angry at the whole world, and
I’s is his whole world for now
“So Lord, help me show him
the love Ya shows me
when I’s needs Ya the most”
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