oct 08, 2020

This is another poem I wrote for my Humanities class about an African slave called Venture Smith. It's a tribute to the Africans our country is built on, the recognition that's important during the BLM movement rising up right now. The poem starts after the next paragraph, below is just background info to help you understand his life.

He was born as the son of Guinean king but was kidnapped into slavery and sold to a number of white men, most of who were incredibly cruel. The first, George Mumford, he tried to escape from, so he was sold to Thomas Stanton II, who stole him and his wife's money and beat him. He was then sold to Oliver Smith, who allowed him to buy his freedom, and Venture took his last name in honor of him. He worked several jobs, always trying to make the most money he could, so he could buy his wife and daughters' freedom. Even when he became a successful trader, he was cheated by white businessmen who knew the law would not help a Negro. He published his life's story, Narrative in 1798, and when he died in 1805, he was given a gravestone, an unimaginable honor for a slave. I really recommend learning about him here: https://connecticuthistory.org/venture-smith-from-slavery-to-freedom/ , he was an amazing guy and an inspiration.

The Son Of A King

You don't realize how quick your life can change

It can be as quick as 3 people giving you to strange men for a rum and calico exchange

It can be as quick as going from Broteer to Venture

The son of a king, indentured

On the ship was the last time I saw my country

Mister Mumford acquired me, worked us until we were broken and grungy

The son of a king, dreaming of life without slavery

Sold to Stanton, my wife came with me

He cheated me, beat'd me and when I asked the law for help, no justice would be

So he sold me to Smith, who gave me my autonomy, the son of a king, finally free

Now that I'm free, it's time to start working and thinking

Cause Stanton's still got Meg and Hannah, I can tell he's smirking

I bought and bordered his land, I sailed, and I sold, and 1755, we were back, united

The son of a king, ignited

Even though this story has the happiest end I could ask for

The court still won't help me from being cheat'd in my own store

I see what they don't, inequality, suffering, trauma, and hard-fought liberation

I want to show the horrors of slavery with my own narration

The son of a king, with a story to share and a new vocation

I die in 1805, with honor and pride

With the privilege of a gravestone, my industry and integrity testified

I showed the world that after the kidnapping, the cheatings, the beatings, the struggles, the hurdles, I still kept going

The son of a king, who never stopped hoping.