Back then
the shovels,
picks, hoes,
rakes, pitchforks,
axes and scythes
were held high
on tired shoulders
that had to make it
through
one more day
to eke out
a hardscrabble
living
under people
with hardscrabble hearts
They sang and joked
and laughed between
the grunts of effort
that went into
breaking ground
Their sweat brought
the flies and mosquitoes
Their existence brought
bullies carrying violence
But their thoughts were
on their wives and children,
who knew that when their men
left them
it was to make the
best life
they could until
they could do better
There was hope in their toil,
and love in their hearts
and it hurt them to see their women
standing with the children waving, sad smiles on their
little faces, and his wife with
worry in her eyes even though
she smiled too
He might run into the wrong man today…
Coming home tired,
to a cooked meal,
and children on his lap,
and a warm bed with
the love of his life
holding him close.
So
Now that the chains are off,
Now that you’re free
Now that you can dream your own dreams
and lift up the next generation
Why you leaving now, daddy?
Why you in jail now, daddy?
Why did you shoot that other Black man?
Was he a daddy too?
Why you don’t come by to see us?
Why is mama crying?
Did you hit her again, daddy?
Don’t you love us anymore?
Daddy? Daddy?
Don’t go…
Why you leaving now, daddy?
Beyond Panic 