In the innocence of childhood
I saw pictures
Of fathers and children
Much like me and my dad
Of women with bilums
Like grandma and mum
Why do they flee
When the land is theirs?
In the innocence of childhood
I saw dark haired strangers
In photos all in green
Bearing tools of war
With a man just like
My uncle Jimmy
Laying dead at their feet
Why did they shoot him dead
When the land is his?
In the innocence of childhood
I listened to ‘Black Brothers’
And big men talk about the West
The land and it’s troubles
“They kill our people”
I heard them say
They should be free
If we are free
Why aren’t they?
Now with the childhood past
I understand the pain
The burning villages
A man shot on his land
I rage within at pictures
Of those who are killed
Women like my mum
And men like my dad
Boys like my brothers
Now with childhood past
I understand
Why they fought and died
I understand
Why men who looked
So much like uncle Jimmy
Fought the strangers
With bows and arrows
He fought for his land
He fought for his family\
We are very glad you wrote a poem on West Papua. The Diary of OPM and MelanesiaPost.com would like to meet up with you anywhere in Port Moresby. Please contact us at koteka@westpapua.net
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Thanks so much for your work.
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Thank you for your nice posting.
it is really helpful to us.
such a nice topics.
Bathmate
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Thanks guys,
PAPUA MERDEKA! a time will come.
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