Poetic-Verses

Free at Last



                 Free at Last          May 3, 1985


Those prison walls, those walls so cruel, built by that foreign land
Those walls of rock and twisted steel deny our men this land
Why are they here? Does England care, the crown and Maggie T
Those prison walls, those walls so cruel, they steal our liberty
With body's bare and uncut hair, in pain my comrades lie
No reason for these men to be here, no crime they did commit
Forced to live in cages, the blanket and the shit
Their bodies the system does abuse, with guns and deadly deed
That foreign land, that bloody hand, my God, did plant the seed
Six hundred years and many deaths, how many more to come
My child's been shot, my father killed, my mothers on the run
Why can't this foreign country let our land live as one?
The cries are real outside those walls, those tears of mum and dad
On the other side, the outside of that rock and twisted steel
No scream is heard, no eye does cry, no guilt the army feel
With torture tools, those broken bodies, the brits with joy apply
They force our Irish people to pain and make them lie
Those torture tools, those British fools, why can't they understand
We'll die, we'll cry, we'll say goodbye for freedom in our land
No more my child, my parents by England's hand will die
The troops with guns and wee tin hats, they make my green blood boil
With their armored cars and death in hand, our Irish streets they soil
Inside those walls, no human rights, terrorized from day to day
They torture my human body in a very different way
They kill the tissue, they destroy the mind, my spirit they cannot touch
It hurts the foreign army with their tanks and bloody guns
They see our Irish people; we're quite prepared to die
We've had our fill of England, united we will try
McSweeny, Sands, McDonnell and many more did pass
This land they left behind them, those men, my God alas
Those lovely Irish people, their future, their family dear
Did give their greatest feeling, their lives they sacrificed
That the children of our country might live in peace again
No dad he will be missing, no brother shot again
No tank, no gun, no broken home, no blood our streets will see
When that day comes, behind these walls, my body will be free
Those prison walls, those walls so cruel, built by that foreign land
Those walls of rock and twisted steel, deny our men this land
When my hour comes, my final hour, I hope I'm strong like them
They've killed my Irish body, my spirit flies again

Gerrard McGeachy







57,168 Poems Read

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