Wounded Knee Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Wounded Knee

Yes, she is my friend,
A lovely kind woman.

To many she is Chief,
Most, see her as Cree.

But is she?

She knows is Lakota,
Chosen by three tribes,
Mosquito, Grizzly,
And Lean Man, as I see.

Soldiers, Red and Blue
Blindly took orders,
Blatantly obeyed them,
To kill and massacre,
Old and young, children!

So, cruel, massacred
Ignoring age, gender!

She, the chief of today,
Then, a non-existence,
Was a husk, and hidden!

Brutal invaders,
Acted like the farmers,
Killed fruits for harvest!

Wonder if is aware,
Of her past, ancestors'
Exodus that happened!

Now, chief and elected,
Shows that is clever
And deserves the respect.

Sure, buried small husk
Blossomed, is too sharp
Enlightens to shed light.