Poem: Blackness
Blackness
Blackness there is only Blackness.
I can see, hear, feel, sense nothing,
there is nothing to sense.
It changes to grey.
Now there are shapes, signs of others,
but I can't see them — senses are so dulled.
Now if I try I can see light but I also see death.
On the other side of my blackness there is light people, lives.
I see what it is like to live, sense, love.
Can almost touch it but I am trapped by fear, in my Blackness.
I would rather not know what is on the other side.
If I can't have it I want my blackness again.
It is Blackness but it is mine.
Is my blackness self imposed?
—perhaps, I don't know.
Blackness does not let me know.
It is closing around me,
I am changing — am I only dying,
or am I turning into Blackness.
Shimara Carlow

By now we all know that the rich get richer under capitalism. But many are astounded at the incredible pace this takes place.
"Without Green Left Weekly, freedom of press and public truth-telling in Australia would be gravely ill."
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