I saw the Strokestown Poetry Festival looking for poems for a competition earlier this year. For the craic I wrote something, needless to say it didn’t get shortlisted. I think I should stick to the photography.
The trees whisper of lives lost too soon
the hunger of a nation who cried to deaf ears
gaunt faces, tired limbs walking,
hoping and praying to an invisible God
Born on the wrong side of the tracks
Land aplenty but not for the nameless
History repeating in some ways
as the trials happen all over again
Lessons still not learned
Perishing in doorways instead of dying in fields
The wealthier look on, unseeing
A Social Media outcry until the next topic comes up.
100 years gone, nothing has changed in our island of Ireland.