A Haitian Mansion over the Centuries

This is a poem about a fictional slave mansion that was built over a slave plantation during Haiti's early history. The poem talks about the mansion's history, from the Haitian Revolution until now.

A plantation home is built on the backs of slaves, in the colony of Saint �" Domingue.

A mansion with white �" washed walls, made with slavery’s backing.

A mansion built on oppression, laying on a foundation of black slaves.

A mansion built on a slave trade made by the colonial empires.

A building built using the enslaved, a practice justified through racial excuses.

A building built around enslaved blacks, who were only utilitarian uses.

A building owned by white slave owners and run by black servants who suffer abuses.

A building created using the chains of slavery, founded on the institution of oppression.

A mansion built upon a plantation, tended to by blacks in chains by a colonial institution.

A plantation ruled by a colonial nation, long justifying its racist views with false lies.

A colonial nation believing that it was their right to enslave those who owed them their lies.

A colonial nation subservient to a colonial empire, a political system of slavery.

A colonial empire that enslaves African tribes for profit, an empire’s act of human thievery.

Eventually, this thievery was dismantled, and the slaves’ chains were broken.

A colony of slaves became a colony of founding fathers, a founding of a new nation.

A mansion once built to hold slaves became a home for freed black men and women.

A mansion once owned by the white elite became a haven for those who found salvation.

Those who were once chained were now able to live on their own property,

Many places which were once centers of white tyranny,

Became to black freed slaves a place of prosperity.

The mansions and the plantations that served as their foundations became places of unity.

Place of unity, for those who fought to be free from the clutches of slavery’s chains.

A mansion made for oppressors is now made for freedom, but the darkness still remains.

The mansion still contains the darkness of slavery, which will always haunt Haiti’s history.

But for now, this mansion is given a new lease on life, like a new chapter in Haiti’s story.

The Haitian mansion became a haven for many strong �" willed black farmers and nobles.

As Haiti separated itself from its colonial empire, it became strong and developed scruples.

A nation founded on a slavery revolt became a nation dedicated to its own independence.

But soon, this proud island nation soon found out it was still chained by its dependence.

Haiti was on the rocks, knee �" deep in the debt left by the masters who first chained them.

France sucked up money from Haiti, their clutches deep into Haiti’s freedom.

A mansion full of life, money, and success began to fall into ruin and squalor.

An island nation of freedom fell into destitution, much of the Haitians’ horror.

A mansion owned by the wealthiest elite met its defeat,

At the hands of poverty, colonialism, and men who would not remove Haiti’s fetters.

Haiti was forever bound to the fetters of the nation’s masters.

They struggled, they were freed, but they were ultimately still a tool.

A tool for colonial empires, who played them for a fool.

But the mansion was still alive, still thriving despite the oppression.

The mansion was home to Haiti’s best officials, who prevented its condemnation.

The mansion was a house of freedom, a house of power, and a house of perseverance.

It was a landmark of perseverance, a fierce sword cutting down the chains of oppressors.

A landmark that survived many a slave revolt, many a revolution, and many horrors.

Over the years, the mansion became home to American soldiers.

American possessed Haiti as a state, making it home to America’s freedom fighters.

A nation of freed slaves, enslaved to a powerful nation of freedom.

A kingdom of freedom, now a free land’s puppet kingdom.

A puppet to America, and a puppet to the world large.

A mansion that was no longer owned by its people, but by those who are now in charge.

After many a war, the mansion was infested by despotism.

Despotic Haitian officials took hold of the mansion’s home for the fighters for freedom.

A deranged tyrant, a Baron Samedi, a practitioner of voodoo, he took over.

To Haiti, he was the god of death, a murderous madman, the underworld’s owner.

A mansion of beauty became marred by the madness of tyrants.

Riots spread over Haiti, political revolts raged, a free people’s rebellious rants.

A mansion in turmoil, its windows smashed in.

Its hallways blown open by violence, its wall caved in within.

A tyrant and his son ruled a free nation with an iron fist.

From Baron Samedi to Baby Doc, a dictatorial dynasty.

Feeding upon the people of Haiti, those who thought freedom should be their destiny.

After years of tyranny, Haiti was free, but damage was definitely done.

A mansion home to the best of Haiti, now a shell of itself, cooked by the sun.

Its halls once full of life centuries ago, now lifeless, and empty.

A plantation of lifeless walls, a relic of slavery.

A relic of freedom’s revolt against slavery, a symbol against the slaveries of tyranny.

A relic of betrayal, of dictatorship, an aftermath of many an atrocity.

A historical fossil, a husk left behind by a past better left buried.

A home of the best and brightest, those who fought for the enslaved to be freed.

An Earthquake hit Haiti; cracks opened in the earth.

A mansion marred by violence, was nearly destroyed by Gaia’s vicious girth.

Humanitarian efforts came in, tried to save whatever they could.

But they wonder if they could fix a broken land, if there were any options that would.

A mansion full of life, gutted by an earthquake’s seismic waves.

A mansion barely salvaged by humanitarians, desperately trying to save,

What has not been destroyed by Haiti’s tyranny, or geographical disasters.

The mansion was still standing, though it bore cracks and scars.

A battered home of luxury, in a battered island nation of luxury.

A luxurious land brough to its knees by political corruption and poverty.

A free land of freed slaves, now trying to salvage what matters.

A land that succeeded in freeing itself from its French masters.

A land that was now in the chains of its own masters, living manifestations,

of the corruption that has rotted Haiti from the inside out, committing vicious decimations.

A land of great beauty rotting within, a paradise wrought with chaos and madness.

To see this beautiful mansion driven to poverty, cracked and marred, gives off sadness.

A mansion occupied by great political officials, now occupied by the poor.

A home for those who probably did not have a home before, a hotel and a tour.

A tour of a past relic, a beautiful estate once owned by a generous elite.

Now a broken home in a broken land, a paradise that was once replete,

With countless riches and a beautiful landscape.

Now it is a hellish place rife with corruption and gangs, with its people trying to escape.

A home for so many people, now home to so much crime and destruction.

A land of free men, freed slaves, now driven to destitution.

A mansion full of rich men, full of prosperity and a place of freedom, equality, and unity.

Now, a misshapen uninhabited estate, home to good Samaritans who watch and see,

As this great nation falls into corruption, disunity, and poverty.

Land of those who became free, home of those rife with little money and political insecurity.

But even a land which is broken still harbors good, still harbors generosity.

A derelict mansion is still home to those fighting to survive, refugees in their own country.

A struggling oasis in a vast sea of crime, violence, and cruelty.

This flickering light will stay, will guide wayward souls to a better place.

Maybe not a place full of rich people, but a place to call home nonetheless, with a trace

Of compassion and unity, the compassion and unity that freed Haiti from its chains.

All those years ago, a relic of what remains,

Of the Haitian Revolution, an event that once fought for its people’s freedom.

It may take years, but one day, this mansion may herald a mighty kingdom.

A historical landmark of a prosperous Haiti.

Full of men who were once in chains but fought for the right to be free.

Author's Note

This is an emotional poem that symbolizes the past state and current state of Haiti using a fictional mansion as a literary device. This poem was inspired when I heard about the Haitian Revolution from my English professor. I was also inspired by the current gang violence and unstable political tension in Haiti right now.