Where do you go from here?
Where will you go?
Another two hundred years
Is not negotiable
You must embrace something
You must belong
Full blood you are not
Hunter gatherer you are not
Tribesman you are not
Is the blaming not enough now?
Cook and the Europeans are long gone
Has the modern white man not opened his heart?
Has the true Aborigine not opened his heart?
Will you not take the bitumen road to success?
Is two hundred years of living on the fringe?
Not pain enough?
I wish you well my friend
For I will be gone before you choose