The Wasted Lives

Martin Dino McGarrigle with a short poem. Dino McGarrigle is a Strabane raconteur.


The lies we were told
Tiocfaidh ár lá written in bold.
For what did the sons of Róisín die?
The baton was passed to you and I.

“Get up off your knees – get up and fight
against perfidious Albion’s might.”
The chance for glory – a martyr’s death
Whispered in pubs in an undertone breath.

But there is no romance in a shit-covered cell
those who were there can tell you it’s hell.
Ten brave men died- I hear you ask “why?”
When it could have been four, Joe need not have died.

So, for what did the sons of Róisín die?
To sit in Stormont, be part of the lie?
Erin go Bragh you’ll still hear them say
Just like we heard them back in the day.

Eyes now wide open, it all seems so clear
We were bought and sold – and then not too dear.
We still know our day will certainly come
Now we longer follow that drum.

2 comments:

  1. SAOR- SIDHE
    ( FREE SPIRIT )

    EACH BREATH A VICTORY
    EVERY LOVE CHERISHED
    EACH SMILE A TRIUMPH
    EVERY STEP A LEARNINGS JOURNEY

    AMIDST THE SILENT STRENGTH OF STILLNESS
    PEN EMBRACING PAPER TIMES RECALLED
    FIRST TO LAST PASSIONS MANY FACES
    YET INKED PROPHECY FORETELLS WANDERING SIDHE

    ILLUMANATI MISOGYNY NEATH VARNISHED CIVILITY
    WORDWORMS VENEERED POLISH NADIRS SEED
    THEIR RELENTLESS IGNORANCE WASTING OUR PATIENCE
    ALL HUBRIS ALL CONTEMPT WITHERS WITHIN YE

    EACH BREATH A VICTORY EACH SMILE A TRIUMPH
    EVERY LOVE CHERISHED EVERY STEP A WISDOM
    NO MATTER TIMES NUMBERED LOVES BATTLED HARSH
    FOR SHOULD NOT LOVE ALWAYS BE OUR VICTORY MARCH

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