Love not Hate
Many a pint,
many a laugh,
many a smile,
and many the tears
over the months
and over the years.
Where now, though’s, love,
amongst these not-so-young lads,
and not-so-young girls?
Distant now,
perhaps a year ago?
the memory persists,
it’s vivid still,
the time yon mon,
distraught and close to tears,
burst through those welcoming
double doors,
sought shelter from the storm,
of abuse from empty-heads,
one, a young lass,
presumably thinking herself
one-of-the-lads.
Pakistani-bashing once, was quite a thing,
Still is, it’s heard in Parliament,
for some, gay-bashing’s stil on trend,
…and folk arriving in small boats,
they help keep the fascist’s hate afloat.
Instinctively, my friend,
threw both her arms
around his neck,
and gruffily, I held him tight,
hoping I didn’t give him a fright!
Now a caring lady, his best mate,
tells us that he’s been found at home,
seems that yon mon was tired of life.
The last time that I saw the lad alive,
was when we gave him love, not hate.
Stephen Gospage
Sat 26th Oct 2024 07:58
Wel done, Uilleam. Love will prevail in the end - it must.