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It's New Year, 1979, at Funderland in the RDS in Dublin. In the cold calculation of the January air, a young girl tries to talk
The Mac drinks tea
in a dragonfly mug.
On the library floor
is a dragonfly rug.
Let's go once upon a time.
Let's stroll, let's roll with rhythm 'n rhyme
Let's dress up in a riding hood.
Let's take that shortcut through the wood.
It's five past three.Sixty-four eyes look at me.No. Sixty-two.Not Matthew.He hasn't learnt to read my face.He's got digital. A disgrace!
The building is white,ivy eating its way up the broken walls,windows smalland scratched.
The walls of the room are white and clean -all sign's of yesterdays sorrows scrubbedaway with bleach.
I am the clash and collide of the starsbecause I create worlds.
I am the awareness of the treesbecause I hear the wind.
I am angry. really angry. angry,angry, angry. I'm so angryI'll jump up and down. I roll on the groundMake a din. Make you spinPull out my hair. Throw you in the air
'Why do you run?' I asked the river,'So fast I can't compete.''I run,' the river said, 'becauseI have some streams to meet.'
Kids in camouflage sprint and stumble through smoke,
their faces smeared with blood and dirt.
It’s a burnt-out city with kids tearing into enemy lines,