A poem by Nola Gregory, Geraldton, Western Australia.
Wishing you knew more about Aboriginal culture? Search no more.
Get key foundational knowledge about Aboriginal culture in a fun and engaging way.
This is no ordinary resource: It includes a fictional story, quizzes, crosswords and even a treasure hunt.
Stop feeling bad about not knowing. Make it fun to know better.
On the corner of a street A little boy stands All dishevelled and dirty Holding out his hands Tired and so hungry He has no choice He’s taken to begging Do you hear his small voice? He feels so much safer When he’s not at home He’s wandering the streets All night he will roam It’s not what he wants It’s just how it is He’s making a living And it’s no fault of his His Mother and Father Are back at home Drugged up to the eyeballs While he’s all alone They don’t really care And it’s a bloody shame Getting their next fix Is the name of their game Families ripped apart All drugged up on ice A shadow of themselves Like the addiction bite Wake up please And look at yourself Your children need you In good shape and health Don’t let them suffer Because of your drugs They need your love And some warm little hugs Please wake up And look at your life You children they need YOU Not your drug addicted high
Nola wrote the poem after she saw the problems the drug ice inflicts all over the world, and the effect it has on children, families and entire communities. "It breaks your heart to see what this drug has done to my beautiful Aboriginal people here in Western Australia," she writes.