For my Friend, ‘Indian Dave’, 27 November 2014
A worthless tribute, from me to You, my Friend
It isn’t much- well, frankly it’s nothing but a fish.
I caught him with my bare hands and the help of a pointed IronWood Stick
A paltry, worthless Gift, for You, this night to sup
In Remembrance of the cruel atrocities
Of my Ancestors towards Yours.
All those countless times when your Grandfathers came
With food in hand: to help, to feed & to sustain.
It is with my saddest regret, that in hindsight,
Those ancient wayward Orphans- Yours really should’ve left
My black-hearted breed to die.
Only fitting, would be my Grandfathers’ rewards
As they left Yours on countless fields of battle
With naught but Tears of blood to cry.
In this memory, I have nothing at all for which I can give thanks.
Except… that today You let me call You my Friend.