The Place Where They Cried

The Place Where They Cried

I am the place where they cried

That sad march left their scars upon me

Many lifeless bodies were left by my side

The bones yet remain but their spirits are free

Five civilized tribes on the run

The Land of the Free treated them this way

Prodded like sheep by the soldiers’ guns

Forced from their lands without delay

The Supreme Court ruled they could stay

To remain an island sovereign within a foreign ocean

But Jackson cared not and still had his way

Constitution be damned, his plan set in motion

Cherokee Roses grow where their teardrops fell

Marking the trail where their bones reside

Others lived through the hell

Robbed of their land, dignity, and pride

Forced to a place no one wanted to live

To spend out their days pining for home

A wonderful race with so much to give

Reduced to hollow shells who aimlessly roam

All this done in the name of their God

These American settlers claimed their right

To remove “godless red savages” from their sod

So the whites could live in their divine light

Their Bibles should have taught them better

But greed got in the way of the truth

If only they’d read the red letters

They’d have seen their sins with this proof

Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Seminole, and Creek

Proud nations swallowed up and devoured by greed

Of a nation that offers freedom for all to seek

But continuously falls short of living its creed

I am the place where they cried

My markers now acknowledge this Trail of Tears

Hundreds of treaties were nothing but lies

All slowly forgotten with the passing of years

This poem is now a song. Listen below.