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Poem about the difficulties settling into a new country before and after being naturalized

Reflections Of Life

By Paul McCann

I wasn’t that old when we up and sold :
everything was left far behind .

I needed more time , the choice wasn’t mine
Leaving was always on my mind .

I’d just turned 16 further fields were not green ,
And the weather was so hot .

It was 72 and I didn’t know what to do
my mind was shot .

My Irish friends had all died ,
I was hurting inside
For those who had gone .

In a new country my family and me
Found a way to carry on .

After leaving Belfast . a few weeks passed ,
And to hospital I was sent .

Someone’s practical joke went up in smoke
I was burnt in an accident .




An apprentice was I .
But didn’t know why
I had met this cruel fate


Feeling down in the dumps ,
couldn’t walk for months
welcome to the work force mate .


Can’t tell you how I felt ,
the cards were dealt and I had to play out the hand .

No denying the crying time
For the stranger here in a foreign land .

Tried to communicate but people couldn’t relate
Here In Aussie Pubs .

Where do I begin I couldn’t fit in .
So I found an escape in drugs .


My life cut with a knife .
Hi-jacked by hard narcotics in 72 .

Hard fisted and twisted
Didn’t know what to do,
Returned to you know who .

To my home and Belfast town ,
They took me in,
tied me down and zapped my brain .

I became a person nobody knew .
I was to blame , I went insane .

In 1975 I was barely alive
But where is my home ?

I returned to Sydney and tried to see
A new Aussie identity .

Re-invented not demented
It was time to return to Mum and Dad ,

I took on a job and shook off the mob
and won the respect I once had .


But still they could not understand
The accent of a man from Belfast town .

Not accepted or understood
worked as a migrant should in hardship down .

But I thought I must be smart ,
I understood their part as strange as it was .

Although I felt trapped I had to adapt
To a new country and its laws .

II got on my feet with new friends to meet
and tried to forget what I’d lost .

Memories I’ll keep of days that won’t sleep
Thinking what emigrations cost .

I was sent to Chelmsford by some doctors word
Deemed a suicidal case .

What nightmare in the basement there
The experiments were a disgrace .

Abandoned but alive I had to survive
the late nineteen seventies .

Deep sleep therapy for my troubled memory
put me down on my knees .

A royal commission went through
And then they knew the truth of what went on .

The word went around and they closed the place down ,
With no compensation drawn .

Oh God I cried out
don’t let me doubt this is something that you cannot fix .

My guts were spilled when my sister was killed
and my mind with anger was mixed .

In 1986 I drove where the sticks
Lay around this arid land .

A part of me needed this sanctuary to discover
what was Gods plan .



I left Australia again on a jet plane
But got robbed and beaten up .

In London you see with no identity
The doors are easily shut .

As a citizen I contacted emigration
And waited for help .

Three years homeless ,
it was atrocious , the government left me on a shelf .

In 1990 I had to flee
back to Sydney is where I was led

There on my bed questions in my head
why couldn’t emigration have said .

I was one their own far away from home
And in need of help from them .

So my experience has been at a migrant’s expense
To be welcomed ,

Its a heavy load and a hard road
As an emigrant with no resource .


So believe me when your country leaves you
You’ll have to find some other course .

Gods spirit is there in all the despair
As a friend you’ll find he is near .
. .

I’ve written some stuff and hope its enough ,
Of just what I’ve been through down here .