Ira Hayes

Published at Poor Mojo's Almanack

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

Reviews

[Kesha]

Wow this really touched me, I too am native american, I am not navajo like Ira Hayes was but I am ojibwe and this is a really good poem! I am like 16-25% native american not much but I claim it, I like this poem!