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?

hard to love

when so much injustice abounds,

hard to forgive when innocent blood

runs across stolen ground,

dirty little secrets hidden in time,

deep dark memories from which

you can never escape,

it follows you like a shadow,

softly surrounding you like a glove,

slowly blending into who you are,

silently determining what you become,

all the treachery and cowardice revealed,

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

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.

.

.