My Friend Michael
When a was just a wee lad,
When I was a young boy,
I had a friend called Michael
We played soldiers with our toys.
Michael he was Protestant,
And I was Catholic born,
There was divide between us
But friendship we had sworn,
"Don't be friends with them,
They are all the devils scum"
Said the lads at my school
They didn't like my chum.
Because of this I left a friend,
Never thought I'd see again,
Until I came face to face,
With Michael at a fence.
Now Michaels face was covered,
But I could see it in his eyes,
My presence in the Belfast streets,
Had Caught him with surprise.
As I'd embraced a rebels life
He'd joined the RUC,
And as we stood in Belfast's streets
His gun he aimed at me.
Michael, please remember,
we were once great friends,
We've known each other all our life
This isn't how it ends...
I'm sad to say this story
Is probably not alone
In friendships that were frozen
So hate could take the throne.
Enemies were once friends
But now we are all alone
In this empty graveyard, just a box full of bones.
Copyright © Francis Jacobs | Year Posted 2016
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment