Seasons Change by writerforever

Dedicated to my ancestors, the Cherokee people.

The wind

The grass

The sun

We are at home here

Living our own way of life

I feel free here among my people

I feel happy and content

Oh how I want this to never end!


The soldiers come

Ordering us away from our homes

They lock us up in the concentration camps

Where many of us die from disease

And starvation


The whites say we don't belong

They said we are savages

But we have done nothing to deserve this title


The soldiers make us go on a long journey

Many of us die on the journey

Tears caress every face


Some manage to escape

They head for the mountains of Georgia

Where they try to build a new life for themselves


Seasons are changing

Times are changing

The world seems to be crumbling

The more that is taken

The less we become

Hatred burns like fire

As it sweeps across the land

And consumes my people


Seasons change

People change

Things change

But I will always remember a time long ago

When the grass had been greener

When the sky had been bluer

When hatred seemed to be so far away

When the seasons came and went without change...