This poem is constructed using words and phrases directly from Kevin Rudd’s ‘Sorry’ speech

as reprinted in The Sydney Morning Herald (online version) on February 13, 2008.
I move today we honour, we reflect

on mistreatment of the oldest history, indigenous people

who were stolen, blemished in our nation

the time has now come to turn Australia’s history

by righting the future

we apologise for profound grief and suffering and loss

and pain and indignity and degradation and sheer brutality and hurt

of mothers and fathers and brothers

and sisters and families and communities

breaking up inflicted on a proud people and the spirit

healing, heart, embraces

never, never again

solutions, respect, resolve, responsibility

origins are truly equal

remove a great stain

do so early

an elegant, eloquent and wonderful woman

has travelled a long way to be with us

she remembers the love and the warmth

and the kinship of those days long ago

she remembers she insisted on dancing

rather than just sitting and watching

she remembers the coming of the welfare men

tears flowing, clinging

complex questions

it was as crude as that

Tennant Creek and Goulburn Island

and Croker Island and Darwin and Torres Strait

She was 16

 a broken woman fretting

 ripped away from her

it’s a good thing that you are surrounded by love

Sorry

And remarkably, extraordinarily, she had forgiven him

there is something terribly primal about these

a deep assault

stony, stubborn and deafening

leave it languishing

human decency, universal human decency

deliberate, calculated, explicit, and notorious

Generally by the fifth and invariably by the sixth generation

 all native characteristics are eradicated

they are profoundly disturbing, well motivated, justified.

an apology well within the adult memory span

a point in remote antiquity

it is well within the adult memory span of many of us

therefore we must also be the bearer of their burdens as well

the darkest chapters

with the facts, the evidence and the often rancorous public

 we are also wrestling with our own soul

cold, confronting, uncomfortable

there will always be a shadow hanging over us

I am sorry

I am sorry

I am sorry

without qualification

Yuendumu, Yabara, Pitjantjatjara

there is nothing I can say today

I cannot undo that

grief is a very personal thing

imagine the crippling effect

it is little more than a clanging gong

a thinly veiled contempt

the gap will set concrete

the truth is a business

halve the appalling gap

back the obscenity

beyond our infantile bickering

Dreamtime