My Ancestors

• Hannah Williams, Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2018

Forced to discard their Aboriginal heritage, my ancestors forgot who they were,
their past, present, future distorted by the white, their life becoming a blur,
dark, white, brown, light, all created equal, not one any less,
yet the 'superior-white-race' ignored this and continued to oppress.

My ancestors were an unwanted colour, therefore losing their way of defense,
so the white took advantage, abused and mistreated, unaware of their dignity's descent,
My ancestors' unheard pain and suffering remained silent and buried,
so justice was needed as the cruel acts of the white men constantly varied.

Brothers were set apart from brothers,
children were stolen from mothers,
yes, my ancestors were the stolen generation,
a sharp thorn hidden from our green and gold nation.

Until the truth comes out in full, the hidden page of history revealed to all,
my ancestors will always weep for their lost ones, the ones they continue to call,
we will always apologize, trying to mend wounds as we truly regret our past,
but wounds become scars that remain on my ancestors as they will never forget the pain to their last.