{“rendered”:”Stolen Freedom By Sam Tumblin”}

How are you going to colonize what was free, Generations of families and wildlife roaming endlessly?
Mothers separated from their young at birth, Ancient bonds scattered and pressed into the dirt.
Forests silenced where life once stirred, Countless stories buried, never heard.
Unfortunately, this is only centuries of hurt, Marked across the land by blood and work.
Many lie beneath the states we now traverse, Voiceless histories unable to rehearse.
Yet echoes remain in rivers and trees, Whispering reminders upon every breeze.
How are you going to claim what was never yours to own, When freedom itself was the first seed sown?