Pometacom
By Doug Watts
I was born on soil soaked with blood
Where the head of King Philip was ground in the mud
By the Pilgrims of Plymouth, and their first born sons.
They put his head on a spike and let it rot in the sun.
Shackled his children and family.
Shipped them to Barbados and sold them into slavery.
Now they taught me in grade school
About the first Thanksgiving
How Massasoit and Squanto kept the Pilgrims living.
But the teachers never told us what happened next.
How the head of King Philip was chopped off at the neck.
The teachers never told us what happened next.
How the head of Pometacom was sawed off at the neck.
The teachers never told us what the Pilgrims did
To Massasoit’s second son.
They put his head on a spike and let it rot in the sun.
The teachers never told us what they did
To kids who swam in the same brooks as me.
They put their legs in iron chains and sold them into slavery.
