With disdain they looked upon one Billy McGee
a boy that promised never to be;
a rep that’s scarred and scratched,
for sure his name’s mismatched
as darker skin ya’ever did see
on blackish hair with reddish flecks of Billy McGee.
A red haired aboriginal boy
matches were only a toy
and he was caught red handed
and always branded
the troublesome fire starter.
Poor boy had no farda
he was stolen in a generation;
trouble, his one destination
for any of his wild-sown seed.
Never had a chance, Billy McGee.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 15th, 2022 06:39
- Comment from author about the poem: An older poem which also featured in an older blog about an older time. It might be enjoyable to some. So it's here again, given a fresh breath to reveal another poetic side. Enjoy!
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
Offline)
Comments2
You know that McGee fella? Good write C.
Thanks orchi... The McGee I know turned green when miffed one Bruce Banner, a government man no doubt.
Not such an older time, I would think; not enjoyable other than as a vivid portrait of of a shit situation, Rik
Not too far into the past a bit further than Mabo, perhaps, but dark days all the same. And quite right, it got parked in a period setting and style. Not at all attractive in that way. Thanks Dave.
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