A Sad Truth Poem by Katie Champeau

The world lingers by,
one day at a time.
My ancestral roots,
Like a story of many.
Dragged to the north
Because of your heredity.
The one dropp law,
Followed so closely
The one dropp law
That made so many lonely.
From dark skin to light,
To high yellow and white,
We appear to be like you,
Our Creole blood, runs true
It holds us to our identity.
So few and so many,
Torn away from our love,
A love of a city.
The smell of magnolias
The red beans and rice,
Cicadas in the trees
And jazz music during the nights.
Just a few of these things,
That still linger in my dreams.
We are torn from our love,
The love of this city,
Pushed away by love,
And a different identity.
We fit in where expected.
Our Creole blood flowing.
Our blood has an intention,
Like an incurable infection.
I am not alone on my journey,
She is my only calling.
New Orleans in my blood,
No longer mine to judge.
Still living in the past.
She has such a history.
She whispers my name,
I listen very closely.
I whisper her back,
At night in my bed.
She knows me well,
There is no denying,
She shows me her face
And secrets of time.
The things that I know
Her secrets are mine.
I am a Creole woman,
With a love that runs deep.
I will return to my home,
And the taste of it is sweet.
She is what I long for,
The only place I belong.
Her borders of tradition,
You begin with submission.
She has become my mystery,
My mistress and love.
Nothing can stop me,
From running to her arms,
The old oaks greet me,
With their tangled arms.
Magnolia is her perfume,
A scent so sweet,
Nothing on earth,
Will change her beat.
She is what I know,
Some secrets left to find,
She still calls my name,
And the only real thing I know,
My home is New Orleans,
Of this I really know.