Poetry

 
There is a place where bad things happened
People know it by name but choose not to say
The events that happened there can make one saddened
A place where many waked past day by day
 
The name of this place is unspoken of, but never forgotten
The settlers here call themselves oakies
They were the ones that taunted
And made the eyes of the tortured smoky.
 
Man wanted more
So people had to leave
To where nobody was sure.
The men did not care, consumed by all of their greed
 
So these people were put in a line and told to walk
To their new homes they were told they’d find
By men with guns they’d be mocked
They did not know that this walk would lead to their demise
So these people walked and walked till days end
For weeks and weeks with no break
But no matter how hard they cried, the men’s hearts would not bend.
Starvation and exhaustion would cause them to break
 
And the people watered the flowers with their tears.
And the people watered the flowers with their tears.