Jobless

A poem for Galway

Galway

Dreams Fall

Hopes Break

A Nation stands

to view its fate

A gloomy queue grows

as emigration flows

with fathers, son and

daughters woes

Empty homes,

politician moans,

dire straits

at departure gates,

The Emerald Isle

of saints and scholars,

Barren and broken

to Dail Eireann Hollers

The spring is in its autumn

the summer in its fall,

one island, one hope,

to rise for all,

Now we turn our backs and flee

to return is beyond a simple plea

Look around and say goodbye,

embassies, visas, planes, fly o fly.

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