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Jan 4
Right in the dead of a very cold winter
When the tired *****'s soul is ash gray
And the cotton plantation becomes whiter ,
Begins a poor *****'s hard working day .

In Winter when the master makes a call
This was every *****'s worse nightmare
It was time for his hard whips to fall
insurmountable pains he couldn't bare .

Snowballs are piled outside like cotton
His Wounds hurts but as usual he's told
Stay strong brother Kunta, just hold on
Just Stay calm till the barn is closed .

This is the mid of a cold bitter winter
And the crow of a **** heralds a sad day
A *****'s prayer to *** was a sad whisper
He needed strength to get pass this day.

follow me on twitter@ivanclappers
The soul is not freed when the body is in captivity..
Ivan Brooks Sr
Written by
Ivan Brooks Sr  50/M/Norway
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