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.