Paul Ryan, a resident of Louth, with a poem from his collection.

Dundalk Remembers


The streets of Dundalk
Kissed by the sun.
A gentle May breeze,
Summer’s begun.
An old man salutes,
A tricolour flies
Memories of yesterday
Moisten his eyes.
Thirty eight years
Since his comrades passed,
In that Long Kesh hellhole
Just south of Belfast.

Bobby, Francis and Raymond
Went first,
Republican blood
Quenching Thatcher’s thirst.
Patsy, Joe and Martin
Were next,
The empire’s muscle
Now firmly flexed.
Kevin and Kieran
Lost in their prime,
Followed by Thomas
And Michael Devine.

Decades now passed
In peace we live
An old man tries his best
To forgive.
But try as he may
He can’t comprehend
How Dublin betrayed
These ten young men

Dundalk Remembers

Paul Ryan, a resident of Louth, with a poem from his collection.

Dundalk Remembers


The streets of Dundalk
Kissed by the sun.
A gentle May breeze,
Summer’s begun.
An old man salutes,
A tricolour flies
Memories of yesterday
Moisten his eyes.
Thirty eight years
Since his comrades passed,
In that Long Kesh hellhole
Just south of Belfast.

Bobby, Francis and Raymond
Went first,
Republican blood
Quenching Thatcher’s thirst.
Patsy, Joe and Martin
Were next,
The empire’s muscle
Now firmly flexed.
Kevin and Kieran
Lost in their prime,
Followed by Thomas
And Michael Devine.

Decades now passed
In peace we live
An old man tries his best
To forgive.
But try as he may
He can’t comprehend
How Dublin betrayed
These ten young men

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