![]() TuamA Poem by Thomas Fitzgerald![]() A piece that takes an account of the Tuam baby scandal in Ireland.![]() 1925 The destitute walk with tired feet to the work house, Since the time of the famine this prison reeks of death, Yet a conversion of brick and wood will lead to evil, Ah the Bon Secours gather like witches with wicked breath. 1961 This house with the history of destruction for all souls, Mothers and babies linger in spirit tied to the mortar, Shallow graves not marked and kept as a vile secret, Now closed as the lies become to heavy to bare last quarter. 1972 Lets demolish this shrine to murder and shame, Those officials do love a chance to show their mask, A great silence will gather and hold the people to ransom, For only Church and state are really up to that task. 1975 Innocents discover the bones of those kept silent in years, Ah the poor famine victims, must be them that lay there, A shrine must be built in Jesus name amen, Shadows darken and grow stronger what should have been care. 2012 Corless pleads with the people through study and figures, Those conditions not fit for vermin yet saddled on the backs of mothers, No records seems odd even with mortality as it was, Surely someone must know the truth lets look my dear brothers. 2013 A mission has seeded the mind of a brave and fearless woman, Where are they she asked for those records of life ended, So hidden all but two, of the 798 babies in the ground, Now answers are needed from the source of never splendid. 2014 There names to be carved in stone one paper reports, Rather late one would think however time means less, Gather strength as they once has done in face of atrocity, To late some will say for no one can now bless. 2015 The government now orders for men to investigate, The bones of nearly eight decades of lies, Deaths, adoption oh how they stripped any human right, Does the law now even look or indeed applies. 2017 A chamber of horrors awaits those that dig, Sent to their graves among filth and waste water, Angels now hold them close to their breast, Sing out a chorus and make those nuns falter. Now Where do we go from this knowledge and shock, Yes they are all sorry and shocked not a comfort to be had, Still fighting after years to uncover those sordid secrets, May they rest and be known by all how sad.
© 2021 Thomas FitzgeraldAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthor![]() Thomas FitzgeraldWexford, Leinster, IrelandAboutTo all who know by now - I love you. For those that don't, I review a lot of work on here, and I expect the same in return, friend me but make sure to have conviction! I'm a horror writer mostly bu.. more..Writing
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