THE TICKET

By SARAH MCCARTHY, 2nd Year

The weary mother boils the water

Filling the tea with sugar cube tears

The son graciously accepts clasping the cup in his hands,

The silence is filled only by the lark’s song

Secured in his vest pocket is a ticket

With a brighter future within his grasp his hopes are unsinkable.

 

At eleven o clock they head to the water

The ship said to be unsinkable

Stands tall in Queenstown harbour, songs

Can be heard from the ship the mother’s shaky hands

Wrap themselves around her son, tears

Soak his jacket holding the 2nd class ticket.

 

Boarding the ship he can hear a song

‘When Irish Eyes are Smiling’ mutes the emotional crowd, hands

Are raised saluting the passengers of the unsinkable,

Plummeting into the water

Falls a single tear

The word ‘Titanic’ etched across his ticket

 

He follows the sound of a familiar song

Stopping at a door he bought a ticket

Entering the dancehall he’s jostled about by clammy hands

sweat slides down their forehead like tears

stout is downed like water

A smile could be seen on everyone’s face, their spirits are unsinkable.

 

One night as he dances to an Irish song

A terrible bang echoed throughout the ‘unsinkable’

The lower levels are consumed by freezing Atlantic water

The man runs with his ticket

Through the crowd with shoving hands

Higher and higher he sprints his cheeks were stained by tears.

 

At the deck they demand for the class of his ticket

Then pushed away from the lifeboats by rough hands

Mothers wipe away their children’s tears

Assuring them the ship is unsinkable

The hysteria does not halt the quartet of violinist from playing their song.

The lifeboats are gently lowered to the water

 

The Titanic snaps and sinks into the water, dead bodies litter the night like starry tears

The son clings to wreckage with numb hands, now silence is the only song

The magnificent ship sinks to the bottom of the ocean his ticket; still clutched in his hand nothing is unsinkable.

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