Strange Men
by
iwalkwiththewolf


my body is bruised
from the rough hands of strange men
my hands now bound, I am forced to walk onward
stumblingly ever onward

the one who holds the other end of this rope is laughing now
he finds great humor in my plight
reigning his horse to a standstill
he orders, "Squat!"

I know not his language
but his meaning is very clear
I lower myself to my knees
he is satisfied with the compromise

he drinks from a metal container and looks at me mockingly
shakes the drink at me to increase my torment
then turns his back
his horse jerks me to my feet as our journey begins anew

my mind's eye sees the pictures of the men riding into our camp
shooting, killing our braves, even the old ones are not spared
circling us, rounding up my sisters and I
like so many strayed animals

and then, that awful finger pointing at me
indicating his choice from our small band
the hands were upon me
and I was taken from my home

my head held high
I hold back the tears that burn my soul
my child was left behind
only my own services required

how I long for the warm sweet smell of his small body
O, care for him, my people!
watch over his days and nights
and protect him from the hands of strange men

American Cherokee, Copyright 2002, All rights reserved

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