John Meehan

John Meehan p.2

Once A Nation

Nothing Changes

Tralee

Once a Nation

The factories and the mills are all gone
 Empty buildings everywhere.
 That once were filled with a cacophony of noise,
 And people working hour after hour,
 Slaves to the time keeper’s clock,
 Until the hour comes to lay down the tools,
 And silence the machines.
 When the next shift is summoned by the whistle,
 That never again did sound.
Silence fills the empty buildings,
 Bereft of life other than that of the rats,
 As they scurry about over machines,
 Slowly rusting away soon to become nothing more than a pile of scrap.
The workers have all gone
 And the future seems almost futile,
 Their pride banished
 By the stroke of the bankers pen.

Copyright © 2017 John Meehan
Nothing Changes

Nothing ever changes each day week or year goes by
 With a sigh, we just walk on by
Never stopping to question and ask why
All around us see man’s inhumanity driven by greed or fear
We are divided by class or religion or race
 Week or strong
 People used like pawns in game of chess
Those we call leaders
 No better than the hyena
 As they satisfy their greed
Nothing ever changes and no one ask why.

Copyright © 2017 John Meehan
Tralee

 As I journey down highways and byways
Across moors covered with purple heather
 as far as the eye can see.
Climbing mountains rugged and barren
 There upon summits to view valleys below.
Wandering through flower filled meadows.
Along coastal paths, high upon cliff tops
 To watch in awe mighty oceans waves,
  crash upon the shore.
North South East and West, to travel.
At night to gaze upon a silver moon
 As morning comes, dawn chorus breaks,
 To sit watching a sunrise golden,
 As it burns away morning mist.
When evening comes, a fire in the sky
 As sun sets,
  stars Glistening like diamonds
 scattered across the heavens.
On this journey many, to meet
Their tales of life some filled with fun
 and Those so sad, may cause a tear to fall
A journey not yet done
 and where it begun,
 Who knows
 when it will end who can say.
As to where
Who cares
 Perhaps to Isle of Skye
or across the sea to Emerald Isle
 onward to Tralee.

Copyright © 2017 John Meehan

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