I Cannot Tell How Much My Heart

Words Do Not Pay For My Dead People.

It Does Not Require Many Words To Speak The Truth.

Our Chiefs Are Killed. . . . The Little Children Are Freezing To Death. . . . My People Have No Blankets, No Food. . . . My Heart Is Sick And Sad. . . . I Will Fight No More Forever.

Good Words Do Not Last Long Unless They Amount To Something.

It Makes My Heart Sick When I Remember All The Good Words And The Broken Promises.