Saturday, April 2, 2016

Sand Creek


























Sand Creek;
the truth dances like a ghost,
a mighty wind, whispering through
the silence of the night;
who will hear the voices?
who will right the wrong?
it is hard to love,
when so much injustice abounds,
hard to forgive,
when innocent blood
runs across stolen ground;
dirty little secrets,
deep dark memories,
of which no one speaks,
you can never escape the past,
it follows you like a shadow,
softly surrounding you like a glove,
slowly becoming a part of who you are,
quietly determining what you become;
the treachery and cowardice revealed,
their souls laid bare,
the self-made bravado and false heroics
silently exposed;
sons of murderers,
daughters of thieves,
descendants of swine,
a little lower than dogs,
somewhat less than human;
without honor,
without dignity,
without hope;
their homes built upon hypocrisy and greed,
their tongues filled with misconceptions and lies,
their legacy standing like a wavering deck of cards,
waiting to crash down upon their guilt-ridden heads;
Sand Creek remembers.
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