PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

They were a proud people,

stoic in resolve and dignity.

Fighting to preserve their life,

against insurmountable odds.



Once they were free to hunt,

roaming the vast wilderness.

Their home filled with game,

resources, and happiness.



Strangers came forcing change,

causing pain to the great tribes.

Gathering them like the buffalo,

herding them in huge corals.



They called them reservations,

but they were for containment.

Put aside to steal their great land,

slaughtered if choosing to fight.



Attempting to be politically correct,

we now call them Native Americans.

When we treated them like dirt,

we called the Red Skins and Injuns.



Never has the white man atoned

for the sins against this race.

We live in shame for what was done,

wiping a tear away from our eye.