Paul Ryan, a resident of Louth, with a poem from his collection.
Night rolls back the day
Sanity’s voice is hoarse
A lunacy born of avarice
Must now run its course.
Bankers trade for profit
Planners steal our space
From the trough of greed and sloth
They plead each other’s case.
Our callous concrete jungles
Spawn a million, feral young
Poverty’s contagion,
Their hardship just begun.
The one-eyed undertaker
Sombre and concerned
Prays alone in darkness
For the souls he has interned.
Some, they say the Devil,
Is seventy-two years old
I think he’s got some siblings
If the truth is to be told.
With their bullets and their bibles
They plan for our tomorrow,
Preaching to disciples
From their citadels of sorrow.
And what of Mother Nature
As this nightmare does unfold?
Helpless to defend herself
As fools chase other fools’ gold ...
Sanity’s voice is hoarse
A lunacy born of avarice
Must now run its course.
Bankers trade for profit
Planners steal our space
From the trough of greed and sloth
They plead each other’s case.
Our callous concrete jungles
Spawn a million, feral young
Poverty’s contagion,
Their hardship just begun.
The one-eyed undertaker
Sombre and concerned
Prays alone in darkness
For the souls he has interned.
Some, they say the Devil,
Is seventy-two years old
I think he’s got some siblings
If the truth is to be told.
With their bullets and their bibles
They plan for our tomorrow,
Preaching to disciples
From their citadels of sorrow.
And what of Mother Nature
As this nightmare does unfold?
Helpless to defend herself
As fools chase other fools’ gold ...
Paul - thanks for putting this our way. A well read poem
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