When I posted American Hiccups a few authors were displeased and deleted my name of their list, well, there is another one of those poems that can be used as a excuse to be deleted from the list of a few more.
In 1621 Chief Massoiat and around ninety of his tribemen where invited by the settlers despite the chagrin of many that had survived because the indians had provided them with food.
In this Thanksgiving day we should remember them, their unselfish sharing and brotherly hand reaching to perfectly strangers in THEIR land.

On your Thanksgiving day you eat
wild turkey brought by my brothers,
but you wanted more, much more,
from friends you become robbers
taking our buffalo and our land
and giving grief to our mothers
when you send the their youngsters
to a vast prison without borders.

Came to you when you were hungry
with the meat of deer to save your hide,
but when the feast ended, your friendship
was not more there, you set it aside,
despite survival we had brought to you
so you would have another year of life
not for remember and thank your brothers
but thanking for death’s horse been riding.

That was back then, by the Plymouth Rock
in the day of your Lord sixteen twenty one
when Manitou, the Great Spirit commanded
that we extended you an helping hand,
because we were children of the same Father
living all together inside His Noble House,
just remember that on Thanksgiving Day
or the turkey will no return, away it will fly…

and then…no thanks, or turkey or brothers, just
the painful hunger which will make you to cry.