If your land was shattered by famine or war,
You’d grab your family and head for the door.
You'd have to travel through places no better than home,
Over the whole world be willin to roam.
Drinking only hope and eating your dreams,
You’d do anything with peace as your theme.
With no other options for life as you please,
You’d pay a captain and take to high seas,
Headed for a real Shangri-La, a land free and fair,
Through dangers untold, you’d swallow your fear.
You see, many have done this, they’re the real deal,
Now you know all this, so how do you feel?
Cause they came all this way only to find,
There’s no Christmas on Christmas Island,
And these kind foreigners are not all so kind,
This isn’t the paradise they were hoping to find.
Seen as the same, they’re hated and despised.
We spit out there name before they’ve even arrived.
Most boat people are legit, but not in our eyes,
Yet no-one’s talking of the hordes from the skies.
We discuss ways to deal with the curse’d boat people,
While shouting messages of love come from every church steeple.
What ever happened to “do unto others”,
Seems our ex-PM’s love only stretched to mothers.
Take a long hard stare in your looking glass,
Cause from where I sit this ain’t the green grass.
I wrote this poem while studying in Australia. I was appalled to hear about refugees being held on Christmas Island (a tiny island in the middle of the ocean between Australia and Indonesia), sometimes for years, while their applications were processed. Many of these refugees were the hated boat-people, who at the time were fleeing from the conflict in Sri Lanka or Afghanistan on rickity boats.
It seems an apt time to publish the poem coming up to yet another Christmas where there will be no Christmas on Christmas Island for the refugees held there.
Yes it is a big problem but they can at least be treated like people who have already suffered enough.
What do you think about this case, or they way refugees are treated?
Photo of burnt out buildings from The Australian
Micro Poem:
Christmas comes with clanging bells/ calling in the night// but Christmas cheer not all can claim/ with calamity clinging on their characters