My child went to dance his night away.

And mine went for the love of her life.

My children had names.

My parents came out looking for  everlasting love.

My family were herded together like cattle

and passed into the cold beyond

kissed by the fire of bullets

from a manufacturing plant

owned by anonymous shareholders.

These are not my words

I have no words fit for a future

that blows like a gorgon’s breath

spawned by Hell’s army.

Bless me Father for I have sinned

I have lost my pulse

and wished the thieves the same.

My child, my child …

Published by

Paul O'Mahony

I'm Paul O'Mahony (Poet). On Twitter you can reach me @Omaniblog A father. I work as business storytelling consultant - Podcaster - Blogger - Live streamer via Periscope - Foodie - I love to connect with people. . Live in Glanmire, Cork Ireland Europe linkedin.com/in/paulhomahony

2 thoughts on “Pulse”

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