Another poem 🌴

 Friendly people

They say the sun in Tonga never sets,

The breeze is never cool,

The children are never sad,

And the heart is always full.

They are called 'Friendly people',

So a white man admits,

And if he who colonizes admits

Then who am I to resist.

Tell me, friend,

When did you last see the sun?

Was it on the plane from Tonga to New Zealand?

Land of milk and honey

But also filth and money,

Still, I'd choose to take the money and run.

Tell me, friend,

Is the breeze as cool as they say?

They tell me the people are cold too,

Was it as cold as the wind slapping the face of your grandfather forced out of his home at 2 am,

Was it as cold as the prison cell floors his feet were pacing up and down for 3 days straight?

No.

It was more chilling on the 4th day when he had been set free with shackles still on his feet,

Tell me, friend,

Why do the children there smile?

Are not their feet blistered, their fingers pruned, their eyes heavy, their backs crippled,

They say choose your master like I'm enslaved to love my kāinga,

My people are not my burden,

My people are my smile.

Tell me, friend,

Or should I even call you friend?

Tell me, coconut

Tell me, fob

Tell me, freshie

What time does the sun go down in New Zealand?

 -E