the ocean is a being with grey teeth
what it has eaten everyone must learn
we see the smile and know what hides beneath
each of us has to take a painful turn
upon the oars in honour of old grief
yet in that setting finding what we earn
is less than we deserve and that so brief
a pain may serve as well the mark to sear
into each skin before we find relief
from chore and duty and learn to adhere
not only to the plain but to the hard
since nothing of our world could be more dear
than the one place we claim to be our yard
a coral finger a turtle of stone
with horrid memories it has been marred
and yet it is the only place we own
where rage and hatred turn into desire
and light exposes every broken bone
to show each hero that he is a liar
when he has promised an ending to night
since even truth must perish in the fire
for in these islands nothing comes out right
except the jokes and bullets from each gun
we get the heat and never find the light
but still they call us children of the sun
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