I

Scarred land

Weathered

And exhausted

From carrying your children’s

Excess weight

Your hills and coasts

Disfigured by remains of

Yesteryear’s mines

Abandoned houses breathing out

Their souls of yesterdecades’ humble riches

And terraces of brick walls

Their sunless back yards green with plastic grass

Tell stories of the miners’ children

Scarred land

Your skin of crumbling concrete

cracking open

Revealing

The flower of your music

The heart of Beat

And funky Metal

Your mystery muses

Reach into the world

Your mother tongue

Connects the joints of our disjointed planet

II

Scarred land

Licking the wounds of centuries

Quietly

Amidst the noises

Of the ignorant

Of figures disfigured

By fear and fat

Who cannot

Will not

Understand

How colourful your sparks can be

If you allow them in:

The rainbow-coloured splodges

On your ancient rain-wet hat

III

Scarred land

Bitterly accused

By children of the children of your slaves

I travel to your shores

The ferry

Manned by strangers from far lands

Who toil for you

And me

They lead the way when I get lost in labyrinths of stairs

They feed and bed me

Work all night

They keep the ship afloat

That carries me

To you

Scarred land