The Emmigrants Suitcase
By Aoife Gallagher, 2nd year.
A cardboard box,
Or so I may be.
A poor suitcase,
But no, look at me.
If walls could talk
You hear people say
But a suitcase could
Tell as good a tale.
I belonged to a girl
Of nineteen years
She left her home
With very few tears.
Off to England
She decided to go.
Times were tough.
Pay was low.
She left Ireland
With a light mind,
And full of courage
For a job to find.
She packed her suitcase
With all her finds
Knowing that Ireland
Would never leave her mind.
She arrived in London.
A job she did find, but
Comfort and happiness
Took its time.
She settled eventually.
Happiness she did find,
A husband and four children.
Life was kind.
But nothing good
Ever lasts for too long.
And in a flash,
Her husband was gone.
She struggled, she did.
But she always wondered when
Would she ever see
The green hills of Ireland again.
A cardboard box,
Or so I may be.
A poor suitcase,
But no, look at me.
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