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I’ve seen those tough as oaks
weep like willows
even the hardest thugs can have tear stained pillows
most can’t see the forest for the trees
He was seven and I was six, my Brendon Gallacher.He was Irish and I was Scottish, my Brendon Gallacher.His father was in prison; he was a cat burglar.
Change was specially written for National Poetry Day 2018
Change is always happening
It’s a fact my friend, it’s like fads and trends
I know you don't get it
the pleasure I feel
when I push down the pedal
the turn of the wheel
the buzz of the sander
the whirl of the drill
Kicking the pebbles along Eastbourne beach
as the orange-pink of sunset
plays with the ebbing tide,
my mother asks…
Ah sey, ah want it short,Short back an' side,Ah tell him man, ah tell himWhen ah teck him aside,Ah sey, ah want a haircutAh can wear with pride,
I wanna be a star.I wanna go far.I wanna drive around in a big red car.I said yeah yeah yeahI wanna be a star.
Once everything was bigand you were small,but year after year your shadow crept up the wall and you grew tall.
Oh to be in Magherabeg
Where I was adult free
From sun up til head down,
Stomping through streams in worn out wellies,
Chasing rams down to the Swilly.