Posted by Rebecca Wiles Link: http://beccas-corner.tripod.com
on 6/3/2007, 8:45 pm
216.227.70.89
Bury me at Wounded Knee,
for my heart grows faint and my body grows old.
The grounds too soft for my feet to tread,
and the nights are cold; too cold.
Bury me at Wounded Knee,
where the warriors died young and bold.
The white man comes to steal our land,
for the gold; pure gold.
Bury me at Wounded Knee,
for we won't do as we're told.
The women die from lack of food,
and our children are sold; all sold.
And soon our footprints in the snow,
will blow away with the wind.
And only silence lingers on,
where once laughter had been!
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