Past Destructions

Innocence is so disgusting,
the boy with the basket,
the bringer of peace and brotherhood,
shall grow to slaughter and maim.

What is the significance of Thanksgiving?
Why do we continue to feast,
on the lands arrogated upon our forefathers,
to sate ourselves with food from another's harvest.

Why do we celebrate devastation,
why sip upon sweet annihilation,
we shove food down insatiable throats,
and ignore the atrocities committed.

There is no happiness for Thanksgiving,
the cornucopia is forever tinged with blood,
so stuff your face once again.
And never forget where you came from.
For as you eat, the flesh of an Indian burns,
for as you drink, the pain of an Indian erupts,
the lineage of past destructions,
lives on with every bite.