They came at night to steal my ancestor's dreams, over the mountains and through the streams.
Through all of the broken treaties it seams, the could get just one right using all of their schemes.
The Supreme court Justice's declared Cherokees to be free, old hickory said,"NO WAY!!" gold and greed, it was meant to be.
So he went to the Congress and said by decree, get rid of the Indians who call themselves Cherokee.
Pass out blankets covered with smallpox to each and everyone, reduce the numbers, reduce the numbers, one by one.
We will herd them in snow and ice just for fun, at least one quarter will die before we are done.
The Cherokee called upon the Little People to lend a hand, not even the Little People could out number this band.
This band of soldiers that took my people from our land, the land that is made up of the flesh and blood of every clan.
All their efforts were in vain when the Cherokees renewed and revived, they stripped the Cherokee of the Cherokee strip, but we are still alive.
We will fight to keep the rest of our land, so the "Real People" can thrive, no matter what you say or do, the "Real People" will survive.
Through the ages we have gone without forgetting, nor will we ever try, it is said that the "Old Ways" are coming back through us, bye and bye.
No matter what, one cannot forget what one is living, do not cry. One day it will be our flesh and blood that makes up Mother Earth, this we will never deny.
Remember to teach the children well and keep them away from the jail, the Grandmothers and the Grandfathers inside them dwell.
One day the children will be the teacher's ringing the bell, pass on the lessons through stories and songs, they will tell.
It is not enough to just teach the children the lessons of life, we must also teach them how to deal with strife.
We cannot always be around for them, so their wits must be as sharp as a knife.
Teach them how to notice all the lessons, the lessons of life. Lifeways.
wado, Eagle Heart.
P.S. Please forgive me if offended anyone with my poem.