This Is America

A backboned society lead by the dead fathers of this country,

Slaughtering tribes, generations of people who lived

And nurtured this land. “Those people”, they said.

The Merciless Indian Savages that echoed as

100 Million Indigenous people were murdered.

A Nation born from genocide,

Promoting the “Land of the Free”And “Home of the Brave”

Has nothing of value to offer those whose ancestors died

Defending the sacred land created by The Great Spirit.

Families separated from their homelands,

Traveling thousands of miles to inhabit the red dirt.

The unforgiving soil, brittle and desolate.

Reflecting on the bloodshed, and tears cried mourning the lost.

Aching for the wholeness to return, and the freedom to roam.

America will never be proud,

Unless someone protects the indigenous boy from being held down,

Children yelling the slurs of their parents, grabbing scissors and

chopping off his hair. Strands falling slower than tears,

Disrespecting years of growth and a heritage he was proud of.

America will never be safe,

Unless indigenous daughters are protected from those

who mean them harm. So they are not stolen from their homes,

Beaten, raped and murdered. Mothers fearing the next look

upon their daughters face would be the last.

America will never be great,

Again.