A Real Man
I takes a real man, To admit to being wrong, Even when he is right...
Northern Irish to the core with a love for writing, running and battered mars bars<3
I takes a real man, To admit to being wrong, Even when he is right...
This poem/rant is based on the Northern Irish 2012 Riots over the taking down of the Union Jack from the flag pole at Belfast City Hall. Enjoy.
Get ready for it, It's about to come, Our time is nearly over, After this, we are done.
Pure rage in her eyes, Like little flames they shine bright, A dark red like blood..
Death takes no prisoners, It picks on the frail, old and helpless, It can happen anywhere, to anyone, over any period of time, It's a wall of darkness, which swallows up everyone who cannot outrun...
A burning bonfire, Lights inside my heart and soul, When I hear the right song..
The only thing left after years of hatred, sorrow and darkness, Is the promise of another generation.
Some say there's a fountain, Some wear it every day, But it always slips away.
Death knocks on the door, No one was ready for this, Life draining away..
Like tiny rivers, The wrinkles ran down her face, But her eyes were young..
In the darkest nights, Even the coldest or the stormiest, There is always the moon and the stars..
I am the trickster. I toe the line of disaster. I bend the laws of the Gods. I am a genius and a fool. I succeed through wit, not strength. I am a coyote. I am a culture hero. I am a jester.