Grieve for us, you innocents, 
      			you non-elect dead, 
        			you thousands on Trails of Tears 
      			and reservations, Cherokee and Iroquois,
      			Arapaho and Sioux, torn from your ancient ways 
      			so we could have this land--
        			you thousands on Middle Passages
      			and plantations, Hausa and Mandingo,
      			Yoruba and Ashanti, ripped away, baptized 
      			in chains so we could turn the land to gold.

      			Grieve for us, you innocents, 
      			you sacrificial dead,
        			you thousands lifted up in mushroom 
      			clouds, children of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, 
      			cremated by a million suns so we could end 
      			one war and usher in another--
        			you thousands bathed in rains 
      			of Napalm and Agent Orange, peasants 
      			of the Mekong and the Red River deltas, 
      			our jingoist oblige gone amok to make 
      			your paddies safe for laissez-faire--
        			you thousands left to die beside 
      			the poisoned Tigris and Euphrates, 
      			children of Baghdad and Basra, 
      			spared the trials of growing up 
      			so we can keep our crude blood flowing.

      			Grieve for us, you innocents,
      			you unyielding dead,
        			you thousands--if you can--
      			grieve for us 
        			coming down in our broken dreams,  
      			coming down in steel towers melting into blue 
      			September sky, coming down high above 
      			Manhattan Island, ah God, hurtling down 
      			in clouds of smoke and flame, ghosts 
      			of Algonquian men women children 
      			lifting up their eyes to us.

        				--- Julian Crowell
        				My thanks to Blue Collar Review for publishing                        
        				"Grieve for Us" in their Autumn, 2006 issue.