Ebony child,
Sweet bearer of burden’s plate,
How regally
you bore your burden’s load,
uncertain of your fate;
Nine months, plus
ten years and six,
your sentence from shiftless mate,
Now
You alone, left to grieve,
Your precious burden's bitter fate.
Tears of sorrow in the rain,
All alone
You absorb your pain;
Four years short of twenty-one,
relieved of your burden, you now have none.
But
One last task for you to do,
with your sweet burden, before you’re through;
Look to Heaven,
through lonely tears,
and thank God lovingly,
for
sixteen years.
Eric L. Wattree