Our Day?
By Aaron Empey, 2nd Year
Just sitting there, many a lives lost in the battlw for our liberty
The cold, sinister, spine chilling bullets drenched in teh blood
of those English all of whom shared one common feeling the devilish, barbaric sense of fear
Chilly, freedom filled, it lay there only to add to the horror, the gun sights
Along the horizon of the murderous, black sea with salute of Gaddafi lay the congested ship
For the ones nobody spoke of, it was near, the excitement, the day
Throughout the once peaceful, loving country dorrs were shut, until the day
All I needed, a light from this endless dark cave, on the outside, lay our liberty
Just behind teh blood curdling barrel I could see the pain in the man’s eyes throught the gun sight
Filled until it could hold no more, with the command of big G venturing closer, a tanned ship
Four parts, four times the fear
Covered from head to toe, the fields smothered with Irish and English blood
Their hands, only too gruesome, as covered with revenge thick blood
Our culture had been trashed like a shell in monstrous seas, they were determined for our liberty
And yet the picture of the red tailcoats drowns the adrenaline with fear
With every child playing and car driving, the shadowed men at the harbour unloaded the ship
By ballot or by gun our day
Will come, every dark alley, sinister heinous corner our greatest awe stood in a single sight
So hard, so daunting “Made in Libya” man innocent people crying through the gun sight
The relentlessly sinister salute of big G provided a threatened farewell to the ship
A day in dictatorship, sun soaring land was different, but the pain was the same until our day
Borth for the same cause, liberty
In trade with that lay the inestimable desert of fear
The police, the enemy, sectarians, the enemy, it was widespread, it was contagious it was fear
Around every corner, across the street, in the next building waiting for the caliber from its gun sight
Bloody sunday, engraved in our hearts, those tropps will parywith their blood
Good ol’ Marita Ann, she was a beauty, awaiting the harbour, insteada navy ship
Adrian Hopkins, we put our hands up to he, his lock up t’wasn’t an ordinary day
No more guns, no more command, when will it come wear destined for our liberty
In front of the house of god, fourteen went to see him, was there any hope in retrieving our liberty
Their numbers soared, with a “BANG” or a small hole through a window, there lay a stain of blood
One minute there were pubs, shops, subways, the next there was none, only to addto the fear
Ms. Margret skimmed under the wire that day, yet nat all did, t’will not leave our sight
By air or by ship
It had come, not won, 30 years, many tragic losses, but it had come, it was our day
Just sitting there drenched in the fear-filled blood
Man a battlw forught for the day of our liberty
The very sight sends a chill down teh spines of many, like a ship entering a perpetual storm
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