Email Poem

Your IP Address: 18.117.85.73
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem

O' it's written in books and songs,
That we've been mistreated and wronged;
Well, over and over . . . . 
                                        Buffy St. Marie 

As storm clouds rumbled in the sky
and thunder clapped giant hands another child was buried
just another cluster suicide death
                    she was ten years old . . . 
First Nation peoples of Canada live in all parts noted on charts
          some in places isolated
  where fruit, vegetables and milk is expensive
                                limited, and of poor quality
housing is inadequate and in need of repair
        full of mold, and bug infested where babies die
          some have no water or contaminated water
                  some have no heat or meat
sad when you think Canada was THEIR land
 (o' we are restless and discontent, dissatisfied and want better)
                      but in the early history of this fine country
they where hunted, killed, starved and unwanted
                                          and herded into reservations
into submission, becoming dependent and in time gone their
                     resplendent culture . . . but still proud and strong
shame on the government of Canada willing to accept refugees
   putting them in nice hotel rooms and finding them housing
when we have people living in horrible poverty conditions
                                shame, shame on you Mr. Prime Minister
in my solitude and musing
I imagine a warrior on a high cliff looking at a vast land
              he sits proud under a dark cloud
such is the shame  as Canada is a wealthy and healthy
   country and the needs of the First Nation go on and on . . .
                        these are truly invisible people
today the government is working to right the wrongs
                           some say too little  . . .
I can see a canoe's drifting beneath a limitless sparkling blue sky
       and fish are jumping and leaping 
                       then, my vision fades into an internal night
          and another child is buried because of no hope
the PEOPLE are discontent and restless . . . 
__________________
March 30, 2018


Poetry/Free Verse/The Invisible People
Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1008-937-01
All Rights Reserved.   Written Under Pseudonym.
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required