POEMS BY White House Boy BiL

A Florida Slave

I understand 'bout black folk’s fears
I was a slave for fourteen years.
I was a captive and I was beat,
I dug their taters out in the heat.
I chopped their cane, I hoed their rows,
I took their pain, I took their blows.
I ate molasses and old cornbread,
I was thankful just to be fed.
I've said, “Yes sir boss. What can I do?”
“Moving on down” a time or two.
I've been starved damn near to death,
Prayed to God for my last breath.
I've dug their ditches, mowed their grass,
Learned in solitude to make time pass.
I've ate their carrots and their peas,
But I never once bent my knees.
I took their best, their longest, their worst,
I was their boy, the one they cursed.
I was at their beck and call,
“Go do this,” I still stood tall.
“Water boy, please bring a drink,
“No sir Boss, I can't think.”
“I'm hurrying Boss, as fast as I can.”
“That's too heavy, I'm just one man.”
“No sir Boss, I won't talk back.”
“Just picking up trash to fill my sack.”
“Look out snake! Did he bite?”
“If the snake ain't dead the boy's alright.
These days are gone now from my sight,
But I still see them late at night.

Blood, Sweat and Tears

So long ago, yet still so real,
So lost in time but I still feel.
A painful blow draws first blood,
An eerie sound, an awful thud.
Was that ten or twenty licks?
Will I die? Can I be fixed?
It hurts so bad. What did I do?
My mind's a blank, I beg of you!
Please don't hit me anymore,
I can't think of what it's for.
I don't know. Am I to blame?
I thought it was just a game.
I taste the blood, the salty brine,
Is that me I hear crying?
What about my sweaty brow?
I hold on, I don't know how.
The tears run silent as I weep,
From my soul is where they seep
I bite down, it smells so bad,
I feel the grief, the pain, the sad.
I sense the anguish and dismay,
Of those who passed this awful way.
Their blood, tears, their sweat I see,
On the walls surrounding me!
I hear their cries, oh help me please,
I'm begging you, I'm on my knees!
We little boys cried loud in pain,
But no one cared, nobody came.

The Devil Went Down to Florida

The devil went down to Florida,
He was looking for a place to bred.
In a bind, he was way behind,
He needed to plant some seed.
He came across this little school,
Declared this is my spot
So he announced to all in hell,
I've found my melting pot.
I'll influence staff; I've men in mind,
That I have trained so long.
They think if they close their eyes,
There is no right from wrong.
I've taught them its okay to lie,
To torture, beat past blue,
Now I'll move them over here,
And give the devil his due.
Years went by, he kept an eye,
His plan a big success,

The seeds grew up, became men,
Most were quite a mess.

But that is only half the news,
Just ask their wife and kids,
All the many times they cried,
The times they ran and hid.
Ask those men why they've been,
This way so many years.
Most will reply, just like this,
A White House full of tears.

“Fire in the hole run boy run, Devil's outside saying don't spare none,
Boy in the White House taking a blow, Hatton's got the strap oh God no.”