The Cleaner

Our past washed away,

Our history is being dismissed

My background is being wiped off

Their life, gone.

The past is bleeding across,

A clean and white new slate.

The strands that drip down

Show those who still remember.

They remember our history with pride not displeasure,

They remember even after it being wiped clean

They remember everything,

Their life without dictation.

© Jemma Gray

Note: This poem won the junior secondary division prize of the 2014 Dorothea McKellar national poetry award