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Poetry #345
(published August 30, 2007)
Ira Hayes
by Kenneth Slaathaug
In my ears rang the ballad of Ira Hayes
It defines the lives of many Natives these days
Addicted to alcohol, or drugs like meth or crack
And living on a rotten plot in a squalor shack
Purists and academics claim history's stacked
Emotions run mountain high, some feel jacked
Even though the world is farther open than before
Kids can still see an elder passed out on the floor
Starvation can result from being badly destitute
You can eat and stay warm in a penal institute
Reality is there, and apathy may be the root
But those who deny the past cover it in soot
Blackening out the parts that are already dark
To say that's ironic wouldn't be far off the mark
Now arrive the hearts and mind to turn the tide
On both sides, they sew up that great divide
Through mutual acceptance and making sacrifices
Our institutions can be dynamic, affirming devices
Give back to them what they claim as theirs
Despite angry threats and flaming stares
Many children can become empowered with pride
And make great steps, long historical strides
Keep up the great work, and the changing ways
And there will be no more children like Ira Hayes

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The Next Poetry piece (from Issue #346):

Things I Hated
by Cami Park

The Last few Poetry pieces (from Issues #344 thru #340):

by John Sweet

The Lobster
by Scott Taylor

Beautiful Music
by Michael A. Wells

On the Edge
by Jonathan Hayes

The Hot-Spring Geisha
by Jonathan Hayes

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