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Aboriginal MAG
Upon different points in my life,
I visited an ageless man of unique skill.
Catering to me, he offered many options
Of how to give my life over,
How to compromise and give happiness to another.
His services would sometimes render weapons,
And sometimes for sport, other times for show.
He would not explain to me his secret.
Countless times I would ask him, would beg of him,
Because I did not understand.
All I wished was to understand.
The pleasure always came back to pain.
“But what else do we have to live for?” he asked me.
I didn't have an answer.
It was his craft, ageless.
He pushed me to the edge of a reckless risk-taker,
And he was called Love, the boomerang maker.
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