brown skinned man
north american indian
he walks through
the rivers of time
wading in the waters
that are awash with the blood
of his ancestors
staining his skin
he drifts across the high plains
walking in the rain
that was created from
the tears of his people
flooding the land
to try and make it clean
he sits alone in silence
of a still black night
listening to the howling winds
that carry the screams
of the women and children
who lay slain in the fields
along with their dreams
and when the thunder roars
across the sky
he hears the sound of a rifle
that meant death to his people
in more than a physical sense
when lightning strikes
he has visions of fire and famine
of a starving people forced
to walk through the snow
dying while trying to reach
an unattainable freedom
when the smoke rises into the night air
he sees his ancestors
sitting cross-legged in a sacred circle
and dancing in ceremonial dances
of peace and happiness
both which would soon be lost
when he looks at the colour of his skin
he realises some things will never be
and that all the blood and tears
were spilt in vain
and when the rain falls
from the eyes of his ancestors
onto his heart and soul
he knows why they cry
and he's proud to remain
brown skinned man
north american indian
(c) nfn 2002
north american indian
he walks through
the rivers of time
wading in the waters
that are awash with the blood
of his ancestors
staining his skin
he drifts across the high plains
walking in the rain
that was created from
the tears of his people
flooding the land
to try and make it clean
he sits alone in silence
of a still black night
listening to the howling winds
that carry the screams
of the women and children
who lay slain in the fields
along with their dreams
and when the thunder roars
across the sky
he hears the sound of a rifle
that meant death to his people
in more than a physical sense
when lightning strikes
he has visions of fire and famine
of a starving people forced
to walk through the snow
dying while trying to reach
an unattainable freedom
when the smoke rises into the night air
he sees his ancestors
sitting cross-legged in a sacred circle
and dancing in ceremonial dances
of peace and happiness
both which would soon be lost
when he looks at the colour of his skin
he realises some things will never be
and that all the blood and tears
were spilt in vain
and when the rain falls
from the eyes of his ancestors
onto his heart and soul
he knows why they cry
and he's proud to remain
brown skinned man
north american indian
(c) nfn 2002