A Poem - not mine.

Australia

When the shearing sheds are silent and the stock camps fallen quiet



When the gidgee coals no longer glow across the outback night



And the bush is forced to hang a sign, ‘Gone broke and won’t be back’



And spirits fear to find a way beyond the beaten track





When harvesters stand derelict upon the wind swept plains



And brave hearts pin their hopes no more on chance of loving rains



When a  hundred outback settlements are ghost towns overnight



When we’ve lost the drive and heart we had to once more see us right





When 'Pioneer’ means a stereo  and 'Digger’ some backhoe



And the  'Outback’ is behind the house. there’s nowhere else to go



And 'Anzac’ is a biscuit brand and probably foreign owned



And education really means brainwashed and neatly cloned





When you have to bake a loaf of bread to make a decent crust



And our heritage once enshrined in gold is crumbling to dust



And old folk pay their camping fees on land for which they fought



And fishing is a great escape; this is until you’re caught





When you see our kids with Yankee caps and resentment in their eyes



And the soaring crime and hopeless hearts are no longer a surprise



When the  name of RM Williams is a yuppie clothing brand



Not a product of our heritage that grew off the land





When offering a  hand makes people think you’ll amputate



And two dogs meeting in the  street is what you call a 'Mate’



When 'Political Correctness’ has replaced all common sense



When you’re forced to see it their way, there’s no sitting on the fence





Yes one day you might find yourself an outcast in this land



Perhaps your heart will tell you then, 'I should have made a stand’



Just go and ask the farmers that should remove all doubt



Then join the swelling ranks who say, “Don’t Sell Australia Out!” 

 



Author unknown