..............my hero.............................
he did not join the cause for his own selfish needs,
freedom was his desire in the midsts of the wars machine,
not a drop of red or blue,but wild and green.

bobby was a normal lad with love hate and fears,
he came from the working class with sadness pain and tears,
bobbys name is in every rebels ears!.

he walked with his comrades into death and gods sweet arms,
even god could not resist bobbys gentle charms,
his intentions were always honorable and never out to harm.

his sisters were always in his mind,
He spoke of them often and he spoke of them in kind.

I’m sure all of the people who new him well,
Could say that he was the glowing light
even in that dark cell.

I will always think of him to me he was the one,
His mother was so lucky to have such a son.

poem-2this is knot your typical poem but its some of my bobby stuff......
..................our golden son.............................
The gentle wind blows through the grass on the of bobby’s end,
The people walked around with tear filled eyes,
such a young boy to go it was most terrible to see.

His mother is strong she has to keep her pain form the crowed,
But it’s the crowed that cant keep its pain,
The loss of this great lad was the loss of the golden sun,
Nine more fallowed and the sadness came over the sky again.

Young men are angry old men are wan,
Young women are crying old women cross themselves.
The brits make there self’s known! God forbid anyone should forget why this all happened.
My god! They have killed this man, a man the calibre of Emmet!!.






martin mc gearailt..to marcella sands

Thank you for that Martin. Have you considered making a journal yourself where you could post all your poetry? I'm going to send you an email to the address you posted above. :)