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THE SAWMILLER’S DAUGHTER

Fragility of a child’s innocence,
Scaling logs, danger abounds,
Naivety at the forefront,
Laughter all around.

Red roses blooming,
Sparrows flying overhead,
Bees drawn to pollen beds,
Picturesque, perfect.

Sawdust and grease,
Machinery, nuts and bolts too,
Timber stacks sitting in the holding yards,
Forecast, of what our leaders knew.

Restrictions and laws,
Agenda to destroy our land,
Exacerbating men to madness,
Sourcing trucks for protest,
Progressive convoy, of mills disband.

Tyranny arisen, humanity broken,
Livelihoods given the axe,
Sawdust on the hands of white-collar dignitaries,
Devising plans in chambers,
Of the timber industries collapse.

Sawmills and solar kilns flattened,
Bulldozed huts, ravaged, lay barren,
Roses no longer bloom,
Childhood memories shattered, now stolen,
By government schemes, broken promises, annihilation,
History consumed.

Copyright © 2023 – Jennifer George
(All rights reserved)

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