The Sadness of an Aboriginal
I cannot describe
how sad they look
In the shopping
mall
Or on the street
With their faces
looking meaninglessly
To the crazy
lights and shops around them.
As if looking for
the river once was there
Looking at the
meaninglessness of consumption
And people in the
shops
The way
westerners entertain themselves by shopping
Whenever I see an
Aboriginal sad
I feel that I am
meaningless
That I am a part
of it
Of which they are
not part of
The great sadness
of an aboriginal
Is enough to make
the whole world sad
They are so
small, so numb but sad, and lost
They look unhappy
They look like
they are just there
Cause they have
to be there
My mother would
cry if she had seen a young man becoming blind slowly
She would have
cried if she had seen the aboriginals
Like the
imaginary characters
You bump into
them in an underground
In a shopping
mall
On the street
After the
supermarket
What happens is
that when you see them
The time stops
And it restarts
again
But without
meaning
They seem unhappy
And you are a
part of the thing
Of which they are
not part of
Why not cry for
each Aboriginal
Who does not want
to belong
Why not cheer up
for the power they have
Even if they seem
powerless
Just one look
And I tell
myself: What are you doing on earth in this shopping mall?
Do I change no
But the day I see
them
My day changes
and I act differently
I act in a weird
way cannot explain
Their sadness is
the sadness of the whole world
And it is so
strong that I almost feel it myself.
As if I have lost someone I loved.
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