The Art Of Shadows

I grew up in the shadows the sun hidden behind a cloud darkness spread over the south like a river flood the view was a cotton field sharecroppers worked in peonage with no way out for them not so for me I existed in the shadows and hid my secret thoughts passing along occasional kindness as all I had to give but I knew what the shadows were the shadows of slavery lingered cruel words of ownership and better treatment for dogs I filtered in and out of shadows till I was old enough to leave I hid from the evil of darkness until I found the light