Mt Home Land
By Darragh Dixon, Rang 5
It was a stormy night
The war was quiet
The fighting had died down
As I lay in bed thinking of Ireland
The land of my home town.
The suitcase opened full of gear,
But hidden were my pictures dear.
The photos of my friends and family
Caught up in some sad fatalities.
Memory’s filled my head from childhood
Fishing the very best that I could
Playing, running, messing about
Not coming home till tea I doubt.
As I sit here with tears in my eyes
And lots of people start to arise
The wars awakening, it’s starting now
Will I see them again, if so, the question is how?