Wednesday, 27 April 2016



(Box Hill Hospital,
Eastern Region)

Poem for Dr Katz

It started many years ago,
In the continent of bitterness,
You were white, they were black,
The black man claimed his due,

The white man bathed in bitterness,
Was once the black man’s lot,
The black man’s plot is his again,
To toil the way he wants,

The tides were turned, to grim regret,
The white man fled, to his chagrin,
Aching with resentment, and,
Burning with the loss,

Your conflict reignited,
In this fair place we live,
In a country called Australia,
Where we are young and free,

This time it’s in a different form,
To reignite …your war,
It’s scaled down to a hospital,
You even up the score,

A chance to crush the black man,
A powerful place you play,
To tear his very heart out,
And crush it with your shoe,

You take his fragile family,
In a cruel and manic dance,
Devise how you will make him pay,
For being one of them,

You treat them as an errant child,
Who rips the wings off butterflies,
And watches as they flail about,
As slowly breath and life seep out,

You’ve got it wrong dear Doctor,
In this fair Isle, far away,
From the continent of Africa,
Where once you lived and played,

Australia will not tolerate,
Such cruel and rancid ways,
For we stand up united,
Against your tyranny.

1 comment:

  1. Who rips the wings off butterflies,
    And watches as they flail about-- I really like that expression and the picture its paints is spot on- that's exactly what this blokes doing to Garth.