Sunday, November 27, 2016

Sand Creek

















Sand Creek;
the truth dances like a ghost,
a mighty whisper on the wind,
who will hear the voices,
who will right the wrong;
hard to love,
when so much injustice abounds,
hard to forgive,
when innocent blood
runs across stolen ground;
you can never escape the past,
it follows you like a shadow,
it softly surrounds you like a glove,
it slowly becomes a part of who you are,
all the treachery and cowardice revealed,
their souls laid bare,
the self-made bravado and false heroics,
silently exposed;
sons of murderers,
daughters of liars and thieves,
descendants of swine,
a little lower than dogs,
somewhat less than human;
without honor,
without dignity,
without hope;
their homes built upon the hypocrisy and greed,
their tongues filled with the misconceptions and lies,
their legacy standing like a wavering deck of cards,
waiting to crash down on their guilt-ridden heads;
Sand Creek remembers.
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