Colours

A passionate Red Man, in this cold, cruel, blue world,

stands, – one eighth blood in his veins, that doth swirl –

on his own, watching black prejudice all around, unfurl,

permeating every fiber, every grain of his marrow

that lay within the heart of the bones - the soul of this Red Man -

from the time the Europeans, the white man stole his land.

They coned, they pillaged, they raped, they stole with deaths hand.

The world they knew, gone, horror left, nothing but black !

Nothing the white man can do will ever bring it back !

The spirt , the soul, the heart and dignity,

all lost – for most in the raging sea,

of the white mans greed

to satisfy his need.

 B. J. “A” 2

March 27^th 2004