Colin F. Jones


It is good that you are an Indian,
A red skin as some would say,
Belonging to a nation
That has lost its vital way
Because you have something still to fight for,
An honour to restore,
Unlike me who has nothing,
Except memories of a forgotten war.
There is no purpose in contentment,
For then the warrior's courage dies,
And overcome with false resentment,
We believe our own lies.
And end up with a tent full,
Of people we despise.