In this little town,
They whisper… in quiet undertones
Sometimes, the “J” word too.
They think no one can hear,
Or see what they do.
Even the “N” word, at times,
Is murmured behind many a persons’ back.
In this small-minded town.
I suppose this town is, unfortunately,
Like Northern Ireland used to be…
Mired in the hushed toned darkness
Of past hates.
Oh forgive them, again and again…
Please, weep and pray for these towns,
For what they could have been,
And pray more, for what they could be,
And pray too, for those dear people left there,
Struggling to live in peace & liberty.
Presently, some souls are awake,
Now on permanent vacation
From this sleepy, old town mentality…
No one can steal their souls from them
Nor make them cry or bleed,
Dark past being now, just a faded memory.
Yes, maybe one day Love will conquer all…
But, for now just trust in Him,
In this LOVE you will always be free!
By Máire Ní Bhroin