A Hundred years to get to here.
Now hope is rising like turf smoke,
(What a joke)
wafting on the spring breeze.
longer days to take our ease
to live in peace.
On our knees.
In a bankrupt economy
screwed financially and politically
In the hole to corporate creed
corruption growing like a seed
Not in brown shirt or blue shirts
but on the backs of blaggards
in charvet shirts
Twenty sixteen what does that mean
A hundred years with no Queen
the new politics of gombeens
over seen by priests and cutes hoors
and bastard bankers left us poor
Yes hope is rising, on vapour trails,
as again our youngsters bail,
once again they are getting out
Heading north and east and west
as the country goes south.
They said the diaspora we could forget
Yes hope is rising again…… in jumbo jets,
© Dave Kavanagh 2016