Lives Collide

Beth

Should we be grateful the police are here?
Beth, you stood on that roof with two friends
and protested.

With tears of pain as they seize your arms,
the sun glinting off their metal 'protectors'
is blinding your eyes at this height

But it's nothing compared to the terror they face
when crossing the seas.
Please don't send Beth to gaol,
when they're fleeing their countries to live,
and she has the heart to announce it

Here in the land of the lucky,
our lips and hearts are free to form
a melody of rough complaint,
bitter and scratchy as the cheapest tequila

There, bombs rain down and landmines split bodies,
girls hands are chopped off for wearing nail polish
or going to school
people are killed for being Hazaras

Beth, you broke the law because you care.
The press may demonise you
our workmates may laugh at you

But I respect you
and if I was there,
I'd be looking up to you on that rooftop,
and cheering you on.

Old white man politicians need to check their privilege.
If the militia stormed at their door,
armed with machetes
and threatened to slaughter their families—


Simply for being Christian?
Simply for being Australian?
I wonder how they'd react.

Beth—don't stop.
Your quiet anger and quiet calm,
like the waves of a churning sea
are not lost on me.

I don't know where you are now
But I know the world needs your compassion.