The black kid sat in a blank space,
Chained on a big base,
Trembling as the wind hit his face,
All he knew was that he got the race,
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The sun gazed and hit hard,
He felt so bad,
Nobody helped; so sad,
but he never became mad,
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The rain fell but yet he held,
On his knees, he knelt,
He knew what was in his chest,
Was only the quest,
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Up he stood,
Changed his mood,
Chains broke to soothe,
Free at last now he had to cook!
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this poem is to point, so much struggle for an african boy
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