Phyllis Wheatley

you, Aborigine child, detached from your memory
so young - fairest blossom, waned in bloom
weaned from your maternal bonds
to wear a nation's wail
to sing the tribal songs in lyrics
dipped in pain

how self-deceit employed the minds
of those who hate.
how the zeal of those
meant to be skilled in lowliness
frustrated those who hate.

their concealed paganism
cries for blame to reveal
the disposition to fairness in their hearts...
so heartless!

the freedom she bade for..
chastised her for her intellect
crucified her for her emancipated mind
what audacity to be savvy!

To: Odell, may her soul rest.