THE TROUBLES

Oh go on then - be a sacrifice,
throw your life away on your futile cause!
But first, let the hypocrisy go:
burn your Bible...
Thou shalt not kill. Thou shalt not kill.
Catholic Angels must be covering their eyes.

Following blindly in Father's footsteps:
ah, such bitter contempt for Protestant mores
and flouting the other Commandments nine -
for what are these
if not deliberate concoctions to keep you subdued?
Oh never underestimate enemy tactics.

Disregard the Holy Days next, and kill the Vicars
in cold blood beside the British soldiers
who came here to steal your territory.
You see only red...
the fury, the blood running in rivers
that carve up the heart of your beloved Belfast.

Blow the pubs to smithereens.
Shoot them all in their own homes.
How does it feel to wield such power -
to be able to choose who lives and who dies?
But what do you think you're teaching your children?
Only yesterday, little Johnny lost a hand while making a bomb.

Now graveyards overflow with the innocent dead
who meant you no harm, only got in the way
of your frenzied fanatical doctrine.
And then distorted perceptions of nationalism
became an obsession that turned within
to create a this vengeful Angel of Death.

In the burning wreck of a fire-bombed car
lurk shocking images of the holocaust.
Oh what's it all for -
this hatred, this bloodshed born of intolerance?
You're human, for God's sake.
We all are.
So let's work together to end these troubles.
It's within our power.

Oh please,  please...? 


Lines written in 1974, after I narrowly escaped being blown to bits in the Guildford pub bombings.