Author’s note: Just an FYI, this is another poem written from the point of view of a Native American. No offense intended.

Long ago,
The white men came,
Tearing asunder
All we had known.

They seemed sent
By our gods,
But why our gods
Hated us so to send this curse?

This curse
Of pale-skinned men,
Who seemed without feeling,
Without flesh and blood.

They sought to destroy
Our traditions and
Destroy our beliefs
In our gods.

If we were to turn our backs
On our gods,
They promised to us,
We would be saved.

From what?
To die an old man
Wise in the ways of the gods,
Was better than that of the new god.

Dying a warrior,
In battle,
Protecting our gods
Seemed better, too.

Had those white men,
Believed to win us
With a false salvation?
With a weak god?

Although he was supposed
To control all by himself.
It was stronger,
To allow those he trusted to help.

A greedy god,
Leading greedy men,
Was all we saw
In those pale, bloodless faces.