by Oblivion1000Kerry, Ireland
Jul 2012 450 Views 6 comments
Away Across The Ocean
They took our food, they took our land
They robbed us of our pride
When the bodies started piling up
They kicked them to the side
Forced labour and enslavement
While the tall men had their wine
Onlookers from a golden view
Those men once on our side
No potatos in the pot
No cattle in the fields
Our ancient forests exported
To a land of wealth and greed
No medicine for the sick
No fuel for the fire
No shoes for our feet
In a country run by liars
No religion and no schools
Our language banned from speech
Our ancient music outlawed
Nothing left was free
With no hope left they soon would flee
Away across the ocean
To a land of hope and promise
Now the plan was set in motion
Goodbye cruel Isle forever
Good riddens to your foreign rule
We'll take our chances elsewhere
Never more to play the fool
We'll take our chances elsewhere
Forget your foreign rule...
They robbed us of our pride
When the bodies started piling up
They kicked them to the side
Forced labour and enslavement
While the tall men had their wine
Onlookers from a golden view
Those men once on our side
No potatos in the pot
No cattle in the fields
Our ancient forests exported
To a land of wealth and greed
No medicine for the sick
No fuel for the fire
No shoes for our feet
In a country run by liars
No religion and no schools
Our language banned from speech
Our ancient music outlawed
Nothing left was free
With no hope left they soon would flee
Away across the ocean
To a land of hope and promise
Now the plan was set in motion
Goodbye cruel Isle forever
Good riddens to your foreign rule
We'll take our chances elsewhere
Never more to play the fool
We'll take our chances elsewhere
Forget your foreign rule...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2012
About this poem:
A million people are said to have died of hunger in Ireland in the late 1840s, on the doorstep of the world's richest nation Britain. And around 2 million emigrated in a period of a little more than a decade.Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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Comments (6)
They robbed us of our pride
When the bodies started piling up
They kicked them to the side
I read all about this and could hardly take in the horror of it all...It was like reading something from the dark ages.
My Great Grand parents are from Ireland...I have yet to visit that beautiful country...Excellent poem.