posted 6th September 2024
It was cold, the air thin and crisp,
The river was freezing, an unhappy time of day.
The girl was young, the boy younger too,
Forever together, like children do.
The armed car rumbled past,
Looking like a godawful tank.
The two young children,
Watched, gazed on, terrified to their very soul.
They were older now, the guns they carried they knew not how.
The armed cars still rumbled on, the biggest was yet to come,
Firing at them, made up for the injustice of an unhappy past,
The two of them together, forever, forever.
The bullets flew past a naked ear,
The ground was covered in somebody’s blood.
The young children lay amongst the dead,
The Brit looked on with an almighty dread.
Time went by like a sweet loving butterfly,
The Brit was dead, but still remained in this cruel world.
The faces of the vanquished haunted his mind,
A lost soul, looking for that piece of missing gold.
Life was tame by new year’s end.
The flags had fallen, used to soak up the dirt.
The Brit looked down on Belfast town,
Freedom was finally beating down.
The sea was wild and ran blood red.
The bomb struck home, as no one was alone.
The Brit sank hard and hit the water with a frightful bang.
Belfast seemed many miles from the devil’s hand.
The Brit sat up, life would never be the same,
Because, deep down, he felt nothing but shame.
Would he be the last of the brave?
A world that was dying, or would someone be lying?
The orange spectacle pulled into view,
The numbers were only a plucky few.
The bars sung loud, there was green all around,
Accepting payment in anything but pounds.
The votes were cast, there’s no going back,
Fingers crossed, watching the clock,
Freedom or villainy, depending which way you turn,
It’s certain that nobody will ever learn.
