Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee natives stories
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feelandflow
feelandflow Feel and Flow. Learn and Grow.
Autoplay OFF   •   2 months ago

A poem regarding the American - Indian wars which I was moved to right after reading the book 'Bury my heart at wounded knee' by Dee Brown. This poem doesn't begin to do justice the pain these great people went through.

Bury my heart at wounded knee

Navahos, Apache’s, Oglala’s, Sioux, once great nations, whose names now nobody knows. The bloody history the ‘great nation’ refuses to show.

All of these tribes and every other, were treated with cruelty and utter discontent. Words cannot do justice the anguish and heartache that these people underwent.

Forced to fight, after treacherous treaties, we did what we must to try and survive. The Trail of tears is aptly named, indescribable, deep-felt pain.

An entire culture spanning generations, uprooted, and burnt to dust. Long forgotten, left to rust.

Unprovoked massacres, time after time, even after committing no crimes.

At Sand Creek and Wounded Knee, we were slaughtered because we wanted to be free.

Powder and Platte, Bighorn and Black hills. Forcibly taken after we refused to move the reservations

Red Cloud and Cochise, Sitting Bull and Crazy horse along with so many more, the true great chiefs of this nation. Left to damnation, blood stains on the floor.

Sherman, Custer, Carleton, Miles utterly disgraceful and completely vile. Trickery and callousness, inflicting pain, absolutely inhumane.

Bury my heart at wounded knee, we will never ever, be free.

Bury my heart at wounded knee, no one even remembers me.

I shall not be there. I shall rise and pass. Bury my heart at wounded knee.

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