My name is Henry

It all counts for naught.

Where I was born

Was in the Land of Trespass

A place 

Where my parents and theirs

Had no right to impose themselves

Or the generations that follow.

I am guilty by my birth

And guilty of contributing to the birth 

Of children. 

And they in turn have transgressed

By having children of their own.

What right have we

Those who have gone before

Our forebears

And those who follow

To have any purchase to title in this place?

A place where those who came later.

I wish Australia

Was back in the hands

Of Aborigines

With their own footprint

Being despised 

As bringing shame

Because we interposed ourselves

Into this place of traditional sacredness.

How can we redress thisgrevious interference 

The arrival of our forebears imposed

On the unhurried peace and tranquillity 

Of this place 

Before the trespass

Of 1788.