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this is a kinda poem im working on |
A book with blank pages keep flipping in front of my face Containing empty words told by dead people to our dead people, to our race. Warriors still angry at yesterday & with right, For those empty words brought painful tomorrows for our dead ancestors while they slept at night. Those empty words have given us much also It has given us houses & cars and ½ off sales While taking our tipis, ponies and pony tails Given us presidents Taking away chiefs Given us drama While taking away peace. I ain’t saying its all bad, we have super bowl & football season every year Then there is lacrosse at least that’s still here. We now portray our ancestors with those stoic looks on their faces. Now we have those same looks & we drink to put a smile on our faces. How can there be so much pain in this place What happened man, I thought you sad we were growing, building a better place. I thought you said you will fix things, take away fears. I this must be growing pains that have lasted over a hundred years. What was so bad how things were? What’s so good about white collars & myrrh? What’s so bad about hunting game on horseback? & children making dirt mud fry bread? What’s so good about Coke, fries and a big Mac? And preservative filled white bread? What was so bad about life back then? Wearing close to nothing at times, but our children never die, Our elders never cry, No one even knew why they didn’t ask these things you see. I’m not saying it was Eden, I’m not saying it was perfect. Hell we fought a lot, would cut your own cousins scalp off. If he crossed you or your clan. But back then we weren’t begging Back then we weren’t hurting Back then the superstar was the chief or the one with most ponies or most game. It wasn’t false role models teaching our kids about sex & drugs But this is progress, this is growing. Where we are going, This I don’t know, all I know is. That if we keep our eyes closed, we will open them one day in a new world, were nobody looks like me. |