The Sadness of an Aboriginal

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.