Dedicated to the stolen generation
As brown feathers dusting my abandoned
I heard your first footsteps, shiny stolen keys.
Whispers . . . like rose gold sweeping dusty far horizons
That's how I saw your first words (darling daughters, cherished sons).
Palm-stained tears dampened barren school ground;
I shared those drops with the earth and the town.
Creased masks of fine passed angers,
Trembling strange beds their rent tenders.
Tears furl the flag's breeze-
Skin the pretense that heeds
sheeting to windy gales of laughters.
Throbbing machines chanting our name,
Divided us, the petrol driven colour for class game.
I shared your victories and hungered your trials,
I sweated with you your fears and cursed those miles.
Never was I sorry you were our child.
Dare the trust and I protect, be withered if they defiled.
Never did I worry that your strength would not pull up proud.
Dream tight in the arms of my grey ghost, my faith-filled love cloud.
Shake off the drugged haze of white lies, don't want to die.
Waking up smart to clear up real highs, and claim my sigh!
Still I loved you as autumn leaves mocked our eyes
Still I love you, everything about you, my eternal heart ties.
By Kate Fewster
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