A little aboriginal boy asked me
Do you like the heat and flies? Mister
Sure I said
They don’t bother me
But then I am not here for a long time son
Why do you ask?
This is my country
It’s what you get in my place
Heat and flies and sore eyes
And the puss in his left eye
Gave the newest fly a base
A second fly garaged itself
Halfway up a small nostril
I wiped his face with my handkerchief
And
Washed his eyes and nose with my water
He smiled and said again
This is my country
It’s what you get in my place
Heat and flies and sore eyes
Then he put his arms around me and kissed me
This poem caused me to reflect on the scripture where Jesus stated that if you do it unto the least of these my brothers, you do it also unto me. Although we may feel that we are just so flawless….what do you suppose God feel about our sins? Puss, filth, slime, pure disgusting BUT HE LOVES US
I LOV THIS POME SO MUCH, IT MAD ME REFLEC ON MY OLD LIFESTYLz WERE I LIVED UNDER A BRIGE! IN WAGGA WAGGA!. I HAD A PET FLIES!. im an boiginal and im doing my asinement on an boiginals (if thats how u how you spel itt). mesage me bak if i can use it 4 me asinement