Wednesday, January 31, 2018

INDIAN NATIONS

The ancient warrior, drawn and pale,
Hardly the image of eons ago,
Still gives us pause to reflect on his plight,
The grave indiscretions of
His conquering foe.

Long ago, no one can remember,
Before all the ships arrived on his shore,
This was "his" land teaming with
Every abundance imagined to fulfill his needs.

But boat load on boat load
Explorers and settlers amassed
On his borders, eyes hot with passion,
Primed to the hilt; sword at the ready;
Meant to proliferate credos of greed.

Lies upon promises, heaped to infinity,
Pushing and crowding him west to the seas,
Killing his livelihood, breaking his spirit,
Prodding and pounding him down to his knees.

What kind of shame can a nation endure
When it's destiny feeds off her native son?
Somewhere in time there's a reckoning day
Where truth is revealed...
And justice is done.


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