The Troubles

In a goldfish bowl

Just needing to escape

Kicking the glass

Our souls being raped

Fed from above

Pressure from all sides

But a long long memory

That never dies.

When I was young

I had young man's eyes

Looking at the world

That often cried

As I got older

Stopped searched questioned

I felt my status

Was constantly lessened.

Was I a person?

Was I a suspect?

Was I genuine?

Or was I a defect?

Now I'm older

Bitter days are gone

But time was lost

And our youth was a con.

I'm still here

Yet I'm tinged with sadness

Because I've seen loss

At the hands of madness.

How do you get over

A loved one killed with lead

Or blown apart

And innocent pictures in your head?

How do you get over

A space in your family

Because of heinous violence

Yet continue calmly?

I'm a product of the troubles

Not full of rage

But a certain weariness

Designed to gauge

Who I am today

Who I'll be in the future

Because in the past

Fate is my tutor.

by Tom Taylor