by Len Wallace

How many tears and
how many heartbreaks
for those who refused to listen?
How many hopes dashed, only to be
Raised again and again and again?
How many curses against
Heavy police batons cracking,
Fragmenting skulls as they waded
Through the crowds searching for you?
How many times cursing the filthy lies uttered
by priests,
by those good men of business?
Oh, would it be that for one week - No, even one day
they would be forced to live as those who
in the rat hovels that were the slums of Dublin.
How many times giving courage
to those who feared?
How many pints to help numb
the pain?
How many echoes telling those
who actually make the world
for the profit of others
that they can
remake the world
for themselves?
How many conspiracies
to tweak the noses of those
in authority?
Hands, arms thrust upward to the sky
we shall have it all, the world is ours..

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