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 poetry by Mercysmine

Their  Song  Will  Never  Die

Their  Song  Will  Never  Die
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Please turn your speakers up and enjoy this beautiful Cherokee Morning Song as you read this poem.

Andrew  Jackson, do  you  not  now,
Weep  bitter  tears  of  regret ?  
At  your  command  one  quarter  of
The Cherokee  nation  perished, on
The  trail  to  Oklahoma, starved
And  froze  to  death,  along  the  way  babies
Perished  In  their  dead  Mothers  arms

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 Yet  still  their  voice's  rise, sing  out
 To  the  morning  sun  that  painted  their
 Noble  faces  brown, a  proud  people  
Whose  spirits  remain  strong  and  
True, this  you  could  not  take  from
Them,  their  ways  are  not  forgotten
Nor  shall  they  ever  be,  Andrew
Jackson, they  now  weep  for  you
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