If saving 20% is wrong, we don’t want to be right. Use CHOP20


I have visions of cotton fields
On the plantations of old
I have visions of the slavery
As their life stories unfold

They worked from daylight
No work went undone
Their backs bent over
Their bodies baked by the sun

Not knowing if they would live
To see another day
Family separated from each other
Sold as property to many dismay

Freedom often meant death
Many of their stories untold
They still remained proud people
Their bodies strong and bold

They would sing songs in the fields
Of their many tribulations
Their prayers went up to a God
That changed the visions of a nation

Journal Comments