You Are My Salvation

• Ella De Graaf-clark, Grade 8
• Poetry
• 2016

Dear, dear America,
The only one i have faith in is you .I am starting to lack in energy and i need your salvation to get me back up again. Slaving in these fields has been rigourous but the tiny scraps the wicked slave holders throw me are crucial for my existence. Already I feel like America is falling, if the people think that treating my brothers and sisters and me with such cruelty is raising us up again, you're wrong. We all yearn with a strong desire to be undone from the slavery, our muscles ease after years of struggle. We clutch our guitars; exchange my crippled hands for a drum. Oh the pain. Music has always been a part of my life, but now, as we go under, you picked me up. Not only me but everyone else.

As sunset rises i slave over endless rows of crops. Making me feel so small, stretching into nothingness, my body oblivious to the world. These rags i wear. The cotton tearing slowly just like our nation, and my soul. But music, sweet music you help me rise, feel my emotion and sacrifice, experiences of the beholder, from you to me, from me to you. The dirt floor i lie. Splinters of light squinting down to my black pools of weakness, spiralling down into deep, deep sleep. But today, i never got tired... I look up at the searing Mississippi sun. The rough texture of my basket. Humming my tune. Brimmed with my hours of hope, sacrifice, pain and sorrow. The few slaves surrounding me engulf my body in melodic beats and rhythm. MUSIC GOT ME THROUGH, you got me through these days. We created the sweet, passionate sound of you. As we dwell on pain, we oozed blues. Inspiration. You are our salvation. The light of this shallow life. For i will always hum my hardship and turn it into power. Rise with america. Rise up to the heavens. Rise up to the light... stop slavery. Build up a nation through you... music.

Yours Always.

Tim