Page 95 - Poems by Alyson Malach - Childhood to Adulthood

Laundry Is the only time to separate colour

In a land where rain falls soft on fields of green,

We tread a path where shadows still convene.

A nation proud, with histories unseen,

Yet in the cracks, divides still intervene.

Once, signs were blunt, the hatred clear and bold,

"No Blacks, no Dogs, no Irish", they told.

In those harsh days, the venom sharp and sheer,

We knew the foe, the prejudice, the sneer.

Now subtler shades of bias still entwine,

Invisible, yet wounds run deep in line.

In boardrooms, schools, in whispers, they define,

A silent war where silent pain combines.

To integrate, to blend, we often face
The pressure to erase our native grace.

Code-switching masks that hide our truer place,

A fractured self in society's embrace.

In housing, jobs, in every life's domain,
The echoes of old prejudice remain.

From casual jests to systems inhumane,

Racism's ghost still casts its lingering stain.

Yet healing can arise from shared embrace,

Acknowledging the scars, the hidden space.
With kindness, empathy, and honest grace,

We mend the wounds and start a healing pace.

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