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| Downtown Port Moresby - (My Magic Moments) |
A youth of nineteen
by Burns Peak road
A ten seater flies past his humble abode
His buttons undone his face a
blank
Gust of air and into a twig his teeth he sank
A lump protrudes from his lanky frame
Cancer they said but
tis all the same
He’ll die anyway and
no one will care
For many more his
life they share
His mind a baggage
of a childhood lost
The last of six and
born at great cost
His father a landless
Moresby squatter
For years lived in the same city quarter
On the radio a new
hospital is opened
For him it’s but a dream with a sour end
He’d curse his father for his foolish dream
If he’d known a
better life for it he’d scream
This has been life since his mother left
Her death at birth left him bereft
Life sometimes was a cruel
joke
No pain. No
sadness nor tears on which to choke
Lights of the city had beckoned to his father
Even here on the hill they seemed farther
He lives it. He breaths it every day and on countless nights
He knows without knowing
the darkness of neon lights
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