Liam had come to see the birds, and to hear a favorite song.
Just eighteen, he was facing stiff exams.
A night off from his studies couldn’t do him that much harm.
He’d thought that- but he couldn’t be more wrong.

He’d counted himself Lucky with a ticket near the stage.
Inside the darkened stadium, where decibels run high,
He’d just met up with Anna; a big Ariana fan.
Both soon would suffer for a madman’s rage.

The bomber was just twenty two, a loner uninvited.
He waited till the star was done, striking as the house was lighted.
Police found Liam dead and Anna, bleeding, beside him.
Liam’s bloodied tee shirt read: Manchester United.