THE MASSACRE IN OMAGH LAST AUGUST (POEM)
The massacre in Omagh last August
Dear Sir/Madam,
Eleven months have passed since the awful events in Omagh last year. I was thinking about the forthcoming arrangements for the anniversary this August. I myself was born and lived in Drumquin, and went to the Technical College in Omagh. It has been 12 years since I have been home, mainly because of the fear of the Troubles. After some thought I decided to write a poem which you may like to print.
OMAGH - I REMEMBER
A dastard dirty deed was done today,
But thanks to God I was away,
When I heard the news it made me moan,
I sighed and groaned while on the 'phone,
A bomb was planted in my home town,
By people I consider to be unsound,
The bang, the boom, and the brutal blast,
Many shoppers and tourists were showered with glass,
The screams, the sirens, and the sudden shock,
As old Market Street roared and rocked,
What a terrible price the people did pay,
On this dire, dark August day,
Tribalism and sectarian songs,
Causes silly fools to plant these bombs,
I hope these awful acts are past,
And pray to God that peace will last.
The poem has been accepted by a publishing company based in Peterborough, England, and will be included in a forthcoming anthology
called Faith, Hope and Charity.
Yours faithfully, ALLAN ACHESON
Dear Sir/Madam,
Eleven months have passed since the awful events in Omagh last year. I was thinking about the forthcoming arrangements for the anniversary this August. I myself was born and lived in Drumquin, and went to the Technical College in Omagh. It has been 12 years since I have been home, mainly because of the fear of the Troubles. After some thought I decided to write a poem which you may like to print.
OMAGH - I REMEMBER
A dastard dirty deed was done today,
But thanks to God I was away,
When I heard the news it made me moan,
I sighed and groaned while on the 'phone,
A bomb was planted in my home town,
By people I consider to be unsound,
The bang, the boom, and the brutal blast,
Many shoppers and tourists were showered with glass,
The screams, the sirens, and the sudden shock,
As old Market Street roared and rocked,
What a terrible price the people did pay,
On this dire, dark August day,
Tribalism and sectarian songs,
Causes silly fools to plant these bombs,
I hope these awful acts are past,
And pray to God that peace will last.
The poem has been accepted by a publishing company based in Peterborough, England, and will be included in a forthcoming anthology
called Faith, Hope and Charity.
Yours faithfully, ALLAN ACHESON
Further Information
Publisher: ULSTER HERALD
Ref: UH/1290
Published Date: 29-Jul-99
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