The Breed

Sometimes within the walls of today We simply search for another way To make this day all it should be I must learn to live eternally A blessing given or one took I live my life inside a book Each new day is another page I sit in the circle and burn my sage Asking Grandfather to help me see Exactly what a true man should be With the blood of an Indian and of a white Life is most certainly a spiritual fight Half of me hates how the other half-lives The white man took all the Indian gives Then the white man decided to take some more Slaughtered the Indians from shore to shore Brought an end to a beautiful way of life “We will kill the man and rape the wife” They called us heathens but don’t you know Was the white man that had a heathen’s soul Half and half, the blood of a breed Poisoned by a white mans seed It’s my Indian half I love the most My white half is turning into a ghost Through my veins flows the blood of a brave Though I lived my life as my white halves slave Jesus Christ, nailed to the cross for me Now my Indian half enjoys living free Though freedom is a frame of mind In the circle of life it’s truth I find With each new poem I’m able to see A little bit deeper up inside of me Which enables my soul to truly live Making my heart strong enough to give All the faith that is found in a seed I reckon half and half, is good breed ---------------------------------------------- Posted in respects to James Fraser