O' Trail of Tears, thou cast a cloud of shame
In Choctaw blood, upon the white man's name,
Eighteen-thirty, in the year of our Lord
The proud Choctaw people died not by the sword,
But greed and deception, the white man's way
Led to destruction, no words can convey
Loss of a nation once mighty and proud,
Forced in a death march no mercy allowed,
Women and children, fell dead by the side.
The year of our Lord? How many hath died?
Little Dancing Rabbit Creek; fore'er
Shall history revile thee, as was there
The Chiefs of the Choctaw Nation had came,
Were promised lush forests, lands full of game,
As long as grass grows and water doth flow,
So Jackson promised to force them to go.
The Chiefs and the warriors, leading their tribe
On paper that talked, their marks did inscribe.
Five Civilized Nations, all had became.
Civilization, what horror thy name.
Seminole, Chickasaw, Cherokee, Creek,
Joined Choctaw brethren a new home to seek,
Commenced Tear's Trail, toward setting sun,
To land called "Red Man", the shame had begun.
Manifest Destiny, God doth decree,
Onward and westward, the land of the free.
To Oklahoma, the Choctaw were led,
Alkali pits, land barren and dead,
The Choctaws they mourned, as the earth turned red,
By tears of their blood, they wept for their dead.
[This message has been edited by Tim (edited 07-14-99).]