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A friendly conversation with a Native American (Free verse) by somemorepoetry
So this Injun fellow
Looked at the trees
And said the wind was blowing
Like a war party
Was marching through
Sometime soon
And I looked at him
Like he was a dog
And said there's nothing in the wind
That says anything about
Anyone coming this way
Anytime soon
Then he said,
"Son, you have too much to learn
Too many paths to run
To think you know better than me."
I said the buffalo
Were only cattle
With more fur and
Longer horns that
Didn't know what a
Stockade was
And this Injun fellow
Turned to me like
He was some great
Chippewa chief
And I could see
The fire in his eyes
That said so much more
Than any of his words
That's when I
Pulled out my ole'
Winchester and
levelled it between
Those burning eyes
And I said,
"Son, you have too much to learn
Too many paths to run
If you think you can stare down
A man with a gun."
Then he twitched
And I pulled the trigger
Yeah, there was a war party coming through,
And I did come through,
Charging like a herd of buffalo
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