Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Reservation Roads
Do you know what it sounds like to
Fall on reservation roads?
It feels hard, pained,
As if a thousand mournful tears
Had fallen here before.
It sounds like years of oppression,
The rough edges of depression,
Paved away until they were smooth;
Until they didn't matter.
Another broken something.
It sounds like the tearing of tendons,
The ripping of flesh over menial things.
It sounds like murder on a rainy night.
It sounds like degradation of Indian women.
It sounds like the rape of innocent people.
It sounds like the destruction of tradition.
It sounds like years of being put down.
It sounds like broken treaties, broken promises,
But mostly,
It hurts.
April 6, 2004
Suge
Fall on reservation roads?
It feels hard, pained,
As if a thousand mournful tears
Had fallen here before.
It sounds like years of oppression,
The rough edges of depression,
Paved away until they were smooth;
Until they didn't matter.
Another broken something.
It sounds like the tearing of tendons,
The ripping of flesh over menial things.
It sounds like murder on a rainy night.
It sounds like degradation of Indian women.
It sounds like the rape of innocent people.
It sounds like the destruction of tradition.
It sounds like years of being put down.
It sounds like broken treaties, broken promises,
But mostly,
It hurts.
April 6, 2004
Suge
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Reservation Roads
Reservation Roads