by | Nov 6, 2013 | Poetry | 0 comments

There is a time in my life,
from which, I , recoil,
When we were called to Arms,
on our home soil.

To defend, not to fight against
an invisible foe,
Each face that passes,
are they friendly, who knows?

In this beautiful land they
would take up the gun,
Sister against Brother,
Father against Son.

But after all the years
that have come and gone,
I remember those friends
that died in Ireland in 1971.


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