[Hazu]

[Untitled]
Here’s a poem from me to you,
We are friends that is true,
I know you fret about the day,
That I will leave, away ill stay,
Even when that day comes,
You know the one that is better than you is none,
You have been there when sad time came,
You were there in pouring rain,
You were there on happy days,
You were there when the warmth stayed,
You are my friend,
No one truer than you,
Your one of a kind,
No one better not even one that is new,
So please don’t cry when I leave,
Never forget I will always see,
That you are my friend,
The truest one anybody could be,
I will always love you,
You’re like a sister,
And always will be,
You’re a friend,
No one better,
We both know the day will come,
There is now way to prepare,
But now enjoy the time we have,
And save the tears for later,
We will laugh,
And we will play,
Watch the shows that we love,
Play with animals,
Run through the grass,
I know forever this friendship will last.


[Trail of Tears]
The past of noble people,
Brushed past by time,
But we will never forget,
What has been done to them.

The Cherokee,
The Indians,
Forced upon a trail,
Forced from their homes,
Forced from their lands,

They traveled many days,
They traveled many miles,

From Georgia to Oklahoma they did walk,
With little help from towns they passed,
Treated differently for their heritage,
When the land taken from them was rightfully theirs,

The wolf howled sorrowfully for his companions leave,
The warrior stallions whinnied sadly of their riders absents,
The spirits moaned sadly for their children’s pain,

They traveled to a land,
Unknown to them,
Where wolves do not howl,
Where stallions were not allowed,

Along the journey,
Along the path,
Along the trail,
Colored red,
Many died upon the trail,
Many left to die alone,

Mothers cried for their children,
Children cried of hunger,
Young men forced into silent anger,

White mans sin,
Cherokee blood,
Cherokee tears,

White mans wealth,
Cherokee land,
Cherokee gold,

This age should never forget,
What happened upon the trail,
The trail where so many died,
Where so many cried,
Nunna daul Tsuny lives on within the Cherokee blood.

[Mirror Me]
I look in a mirror
and what do I see?
A stranger looking back at me.

Who is this stranger within mymirror?
A girl unknown to me
she seems familiar
like a distant dream
forgotten by time.

Then I see
This girl, it's me!

I look closer to see it now,
the girl in the mirror is me.

My long hair now short
my face now painted
my expression now sad.

The mirror me- I dont want to see!
For she is not me!
The mirror me- tht I do see
must be- what I could become.

But I refuse to become
one I dont want to come
and be a stanger to me.

This me- within the mirror
is one I do not want to be.

She has changed herself
to fit everyone else.

She or I or what to be
has lost more than happyness

She or I has lost ourselves
within the fast river of peers

but I will not become she
for I am me
and my path I choose alone

[Drive-by-shooting]
As the clock chimes tweleve O'clock midnight,
a crime has been done,
her time is now gone.

Her life fades away
so does her pain

I cry by her side
in fear for her life.

I hear sirens in the background,
they're coming to help,
bit it is too late,
she is now gone.[

she was but eight
innocent and young
with dreams that would rise
and dreams that would fall,
a drive by shooting
ended it all.