Beer cans tumble in Indian winter wind amid
tumbleweeds bounding over empty fields propelled by
swells of blizzard breath;
Young 21st century braves goalless, afraid, ashamed,
souls numbed from cold coals of emptiness, reach into a
hazy future further fogged by alcohol and drugs,
yet with dignity plod forward, driven to rise above
forces against their noble culture whimpering from
venomous "gifts" of psychiatry's thugs;
Now astride faithful horses, postured straight with
heads held proud-high, they ride into new sunrisen skies as
spirits of their people ascend to bless their vow:
"We know who we are! We will turn our history around!"
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