Faces lined with worry
Children have not been fed
The only heat inside the house
Is wrapped up inside the bed.
The fridge is cold and empty
the mice have disappeared
The economic storm
Is worse than we ever feared.

The waters on a meter
The house is taxed yet bare
The pleadings fall on deaf ears
They don’t even pretend to care.
The rich they buy things cheaply
From the honest forced to sell
When the good life unravels
As they tumble down to hell.

Politician empathize with rhetoric
Yet they never the burden share
As they squeeze out hope, from life
Leave us to wallow in despair.
They guard the banks that failed us
The gamblers that lost their bets
As they feed us with empty promises
but with no compromise on our debts.

Yet through it all together
We struggle on and on
And exhausted from our trying
Our health and love seems gone
We’ll turn the corner all alone
Our emigrant children far away
emptying the soul of native place
As they work abroad and stay.
Grandchildren only in a photo see
But never dance upon our knee
Lost a chance to share our history
Our mystic tales, mythologies .

The crimes in silence
you in charge commit
You committed the good
to a lonely shame
And we the beasts of burden
Carry the cross with all your blame.
We blame each other now for things
But we never caused this rust or rot
And we, who bailed you buggers out
You’ve conveniently forgot.



Muckross Killarney, Ireland

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