There goes the neighborhood . . .

"And there goes the neighborhood. . ."
      I watched them silently as they scattered throughout our sacred lands. They didn't care about the land they walked upon, they only cared about claiming it to be theirs. My people and I were bothered because of our beliefs. The white men claimed that we were supposed to belief in something they called God. They didn't care that our faith was placed amongst the belief of the living among us, instead they pondered our thoughts with believing in something called "the Bible". If we didn't listen to them we  would get punished. Our people were forced to do hard labor that the Whites wouldn't want to do. We planted and harvested the crops not only for our feeding but for theirs as well. After some time passed everyone that I knew, including me, was to wear clothing that was manufactured to fit completely. We no longer had right to what we wore, or what we believed in.
       Soon enough the land in which we lived was worked on very frequently that it no longer held it's green color. Vast numbers of the people I grew up with ended up dying. The disease the White men brought was too powerful for their systems to overcome it. Instead they ended up cold without a single breath to take. But no one seemed to care for our lives to them were almost worthless. They didn't bother to care for our people, but if we were to offend them in any form or circumstance they would easily kill large numbers without mercy.
       I am lucky, for until now I have not been killed, either by a White man'a hand or by a metal weapon. For now I have to keep myself busy with the work I am assigned. I guess I'm just a bit too tired of trying to be someone I am not just so that I could please others whom have taken away from us with nothing in exchange, but death. Why can't they just be grateful for what they have encountered in this earth and be happy? Hasn't it given them enough already?