Their Song Will Never Die
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
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
