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
Us
And those who follow
To have any purchase to title in this place?

A place where those who came later,
Wish 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 the grievous interference
The arrival of our forebears imposed
On the unhurried peace and tranquillity
Of this place
Before the trespass
Of 1788