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Paul F. McCann

The Town That Found  Hope

Belfast short circuited and blew a fuse;
The town confused.

Once there were songs on the streets but they left;
The town went deaf.

Once it was just us but now us and them;
The town called men.

People had a cause to fight and die for;
The town at war.

As panic struck and good people went bad;
The town went mad.

I watched helpless were my friends lay and died;
The town all cried.

Buses were hijacked and cars over turned;
The town was burned.

There was no end to the Insurance claims;
The town in flames.

Homes to wreck and ruin in each district;
The town’s conflict.

Whatever your religion no one prayed;
The town was dead.

People forgot themselves; shops were looted;
The town uprooted.

The push to leave Belfast came to a shove;
The town I love.

It took years of blood shed then peace was found;
The town turned round.

Belfast hung on to the end of a rope;
The town found hope.

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