Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2013
We delusional from the burn of heat,
Fields crowded with not-so different men,
Along comes the watchman, just takes a seat,
Whites uninviting make us sleep in dens,
We are unwelcome; go on with no fuss,
Dreaming of bright days, hope this is a phase,
Watchman watching, say bad people is us,
Wrong! Look for a bright future, much haze,
Before you know, we shall leave this rich place,
Poorly treated, frowned upon, discarded,
Won’t find us because we left with no trace,
Here we settle, you thought we’re not guarded,
We paid your fee, tried hard to work your way,
We left along with town, what can you say?
The Chinese on the Australian gold fields.
Himal
Written by
Himal  Australia
(Australia)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems