Tower of Souls
Beacon, beacon
Tower of old
Draw the souls
With tales untold
19/3/2015
(Inspired by your post yesterday Pat. )
19/3/2015
Ink and Gouache.
Let it go
The memories of faces we hold to
The hurt
Pain
Guilt
Those past
Our tag along
Memento mori
We cling to it
Like children with balloons
Let it go.
Martin McDonnell (2014)
Ink, marker and white pencil on rough handmade paper
The returning
The roundabout is missing
A new college
Shops are similar
I see the bank is open again
Electricity wires still slice the horizon
The air is the same
No one I know though
Our ghosts seem gone too
This school that
Didn’t hate me
But was unaware we existed
Looks smaller now
This concrete we coveted
Devoid of our repaired soles
Streets devoid of our hearts
We were laughing in the smog
We tagged, kicked,
Fought, ran.
Fearing and proud
We were cut and healed here.
That last day we left
We stood waved to the camera
Smiled, and wiped our eyes
The traffic lights are much better now though.
Martin McDonnell (2014)