Dawn Raid v2
A sudden crash awakens the night.
Thundering boots stomp,
heightening fear.
Little spots of light dart across the room. A half-naked man, bewildered and angry,
a wall of blue invaders violated his castle.
Pinned to his bed, with a truncheon to his throat,
he hears a woman's hysterical pleas for mercy,
unaware of their crimes.
A singular figure stands tall, self-righteous,
demanding their passports in an authoritative voice.
" Are you married to this woman?"
" Are you a permanent resident?"
These are the questions asked by the invaders.
If this sounds familiar, you would be wrong,
New Zealand in the 60s. One of her proudest moments?
Once dubbed the land of milk and honey of the Pacific,
inviting her poorer cousins to part-take in her fortune.
Then she ridiculed and scorned her guests,
labeled overstayers by her gracious host,
with the blessings of her white populace.
My fellow countrymen do not wish to be reminded of such events.
In this land of milk and honey, covered in sheep dip.
It is good to remember, in case we forget and repeat,
Lest we forget the lessons of our past.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
