Chavez Poem

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He stands perched on the cliff,

His arms outstretched stiff,

Reaching out for help from his ancestors,

About what to do about the tormentors,

The voices told him to go out west,

That it would ultimately be the best,

To escape the violence that would follow,

From the guns of the ramshackle desperados,

Avenging the death of their fallen friend,

Bringing Murphy's gang to an end.

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