My name is Isabella but you can call me truth,
born on the Hardenbergh plantation without a word of English.
13 brothers and sisters in upstate New York speaking deutches,
Sold to a new master at age nine never to return to my kind.
Sold with a fold of sheep for one hundred dollars.
Is that all I’m worth to you my light skinned brothers?
Wipped, embarrassed, harassed, and abused “more,” my oppressor roars without refuse.
I pray allowed when scared and confused asking the Good Lord to come and renew.
This life hasn’t been all it’s cracked up to be, how could you understand unless you have lived inside of me?
This malice and hate I have been shown won’t keep this passion inside of me from growin’.
I’ll travel across this land of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness speaking truthfully of slavery, abolition, salvation and women’s rights until I see the light.
Ain’t I a woman deserving of respect what does it take for a little bit of courtesy, I’ve done my time in the field earnestly.
Time to put the sythe down and raise up this myth of everyone being equal enjoying liberty.
When my day comes I want to be remembered not as an outlaw or criminal but one who stands for the freedom of all.