A Serving of Genocide With the Turkey

A Serving of Genocide With the Turkey By Elton Camp Thanksgiving meat should be baloney Because the holiday’s origin is phony Pilgrims came to an inhabited land Got help from the natives at hand Without their assistance it’s clear They wouldn’t have lived a year A big feast they were asked to attend Mainly for a treaty their rights to end They didn’t call it Thanksgiving Day The intent was the natives to betray That feast wasn’t repeated again Rather, many episodes of horrid sin Squanto’s treaty was with a single tribe Pequot outrage was hard to describe “To that treaty we sure didn’t agree It’s no good as anyone fair can see” To keep their land, Pequots fought As any proud people really ought For the Green Corn Festival they came What happened then is a lasting shame Seven hundred souls were sound asleep White men surrounded ‘em without a peep “We order you heathens to come outside” They were then shot, clubbed and died Even women and children didn’t survive But were cruelly, mercilessly burned alive A Day of Thanksgiving authorities decreed At how well the ghastly attack did succeed At their victory the colonists were delighted Attacks against many villages were excited For Indian scalps bounties were gladly paid So as many murders as possible would be made To the colonists the victories did belong They feasted as they sang a joyous song Hacked off heads through streets were kicked To show that the Indians had been licked A chief’s head was mounted on a pole Where it stayed for 24 years we are told So in a land were millions did reside All but a few of them ultimately died This isn’t the warm, fuzzy story from school But one of genocide so deliberate and cruel So Thanksgiving Day I do not celebrate As to why, this true story I have to relate