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John F McCullagh
Poems
Feb 2012
Dublin, 1916
When they read their “Proclamation”
There was silence, scattered laughter.
It was as if the town folk knew
those boys were soon for the hereafter.
For Seven Hundred years
The Irish nation wore her chains
and, although they chaffed at times,
her second nature they became.
Not comfortable exactly, but
the folk knew nothing better.
Unlikely to be changed, they thought,
rebellions cannot change the Weather.
Imperial might fell hard that week
on both the bold and the indifferent:
The City center left in flames,
Prisoners marched off to internment.
Then the executions followed,
one by one the brothers fell.
With every dawn their ranks grew thin,
but our opinions changed as well.
In the hearts of the indifferent
Love of country grew more dear:
Pride and a sense of Nationhood
and a new changed Atmosphere.
There was a lot of collateral damage in the course of the Easter rising of 1916 and the town folk weren't initially on the side of the Rebels
Written by
John F McCullagh
63/M/NY
(63/M/NY)
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