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Metaphysical Blues
By Rudolph
Lewis
Captive—they brought
we here to be
from life to death
from birthing bed
to unmarked grave in
south VA
Sovereign we struggle
to be
Slave —they’d have we
be
to crippling laws
penned
by glorious men of
greed and sway
buckled feet &
outstretched
neck—a minor harmony
in the first degree
Sovereign I’d have we
be
The Lords of privilege
& trade
their pens dipped in
the blood
well of the weak—their
screams
mount the skies, thick
as sand
Sovereign we stoop and
die to be
Slave to destiny and
museums,
markets blind and deaf
they be,
blowing blue smoke
back at we
on the husk and
leavings we come & go,
time be breaking time
be hard
Sovereign we struggle
ever to be
Captive to wealth we
sweat
by the long-handled
hoe
little we share, we
the moan & groan
of the yoke—we be
spirit we be blue
Sovereign souls we
struggle to be
Slave to tears ever we
be
in the devil’s domain
are we
to prison go we
shackled to be
too sad to whistle too
dead to sing
Sovereign in this land
we must be
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