by Pearl Sturgis
Does history repeat?
 |
| LaVoy Finicum |
This poem I wrote because of the assassination of Lavoy Finicum but in 1774 Parliament passed "The Intolerance ACT" against the colonists in Boston and allowed no imports until the Tea they threw in the ocean was paid for. The Virginia Burgess declared a day of fasting and prayer and declared that an attack on one colony was an attack on all. Virginia raised money and food for Boston and bushels of grain, thousands of barrels of flour were sent from Philadelphia.
The citizens of Providence employed Boston carpenters to build a new church. A Connecticut farmer drove a flock of sheep to Boston. Never had the colonies been so cemented together by such ties of sympathy. George Washington, at his own expense, raised a thousand soldiers and marched to the relief of Boston. The colonies forgot their jealousies and were ready to strike together. (Hallecks History 1926) As I read this about the Boston Massacre it mentioned bloodstains red in the white snow. At the same time, I watched a video about Lavoy Finicum and the announcer said there were bloodstains in the snow. That inspired me to write the poem "Bloodstains in the Snow."
"Bloodstains in the Snow."
They say the snow is bloodstained red where the patriot's body lay.
Eyewitnesses have testified on that horrific day.
The helicopters hovered o'er to take a video.
Twas set in motion long before the patriot hit the snow.
The roadblock hid around the curve completely out of sight.
The patriot had to hit or swerve. He chose to do what's right.
His destination was not wrong. The public was invited.
Their hearts were filled with freedom's song.
The Patriots were united.
The snow then stopped the patriot's car and trapped his passengers.
The shots rang out from near and far. It was a massacre.
The patriot rolled his window down to try to make some sense.
He missed each bullet flying 'round by God's own Providence.
He opened up the door and then he raised his hands up high.
They shot him in the stomach and his hands fell to his side.
Again he raised his hands up high when came the deadly one.
A shot that aimed straight through the head! Assassination done!
This is the testimony of eyewitnesses who knew...And I believe these witnesses are God's own chosen few.
One of the penalties for refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors. -- Plato (429-347 BC)
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