Poetry Portraits

The Indian Raid
By Rachel
(This is what I think one of the soldiers who killed the Natives might be feeling)

As I sit,
Gazing into the fire,
I think of the people that used to be here.
I think of the culture that is lost,
And wish I had not done what I did.

The sun was blazing up above,
And my heart was fluttering.
My brain did not know what to think at the sight of the cowering women and children.
But they are gone now to where ever their souls go.
Why are the other men rejoicing,
When I can’t bring a smile to my lips?

Life will go on, Life will go on,
But I will always remember this terrible day,
Where My heart is Thumping,
At the site of our dead enemies.