Ghosts of New Orleans
I, the evil harlot stand tall
I, the adulterous shall not fall
Thus you've branded thee my name
But it is I who will live out your defame
You are my master, my country, owner of me
For no other reason than money would it be
Corruption and law go hand in hand
While the blacksmith heats his "incorrigilble" brand
Youu dealt me a sentence worse than death
Forever a man's slave with every breath
Bought and sold, shuffled around
Back then the Bayou wasn't even a town
We became mothers of women and men
Condemned by society for someone else's sin
Forever we're unclaimed moms of many
All for your greedy mans penny
So dear frenchman, madam and sir
We were duly punished without murder
So many of us innocent victims of you
Corrupt officials that sent us to the bayou
Blessed were those who passed on during the journey
Who were carelessly thrown overboard on a makeshift gourney
We were pawed and mauled, beaten and raped
For us there was no where to escape
The bayou was too wild for a woman to survive
So we chose daily to endure punishment or die.
This poem is based upon actual historical events that occured while the french
government was attempting to develop New Orleans.
Copyright © Chasity Larson | Year Posted 2010
|