The sun rose serenely on that lovely morn 
Dew shimmering as diamonds on the foliage so green, 
In the early sunlight, the dove’s song, painfully forlorn 
Singing of desolation, despite the lovely scene.

Each felt the other’s agony as their land was taken away 
Seizure of a culture, banishing beautiful people to a reservation, 
Abolishing their native tongue, causing them tears of dismay 
Taking away their freedom in the guise of conservation.

Many brave ones were driven to walk this bitter trail 
Into uncertainty, moving onward, despite their fear, 
Saddened hearts, but with spirits that will never fail 
And the Cherokee Nation will never disappear.

ABB/MarySherman   

Trail of Tears Copyright © 1997-2004 ABB/MarySherman All rights reserved
Trail of Tears may not be reproduced in whole or part without the written consent of the author.

Mary Sherman/Stormie, Webmaster
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Sunshine, Raindrops, and Unicorns