{"id":3670,"date":"2016-05-16T11:12:18","date_gmt":"2016-05-16T10:12:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.longkeshinsideout.co.uk\/?p=3670"},"modified":"2016-05-16T11:14:38","modified_gmt":"2016-05-16T10:14:38","slug":"3670","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.longkeshinsideout.co.uk\/?p=3670","title":{"rendered":"Personal Legacy"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

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Personal Legacy<\/span><\/p>\n

I had a friend big and strong, during the days we got along,<\/span><\/p>\n

Out of school and on the street, play was simple, we done no wrong.<\/span><\/p>\n

Cowboys and Indians, fish and chips, lolly pops and onion rings.<\/span><\/p>\n

Collecting the boney, watching TV, we would talk for hours of many things.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But the troubles came; the days grew dark, no more child\u2019s play in the park,<\/span><\/p>\n

We learnt new things like petrol bombs, the riots played out like a lark.<\/span><\/p>\n

And worse it got, we heard the cries, some of us said we\u2019ll join the fray.<\/span><\/p>\n

There was different talk at the end of the day, and we had to watch what would we say.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The darkness grew and spread abroad, some got a uniform, while others joined.<\/span><\/p>\n

Things had to be done, the order tall, the cost would be high, for some it was all.<\/span><\/p>\n

Cordite smell and thunderous noise, sirens ringing and screaming men.<\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s in the eyes and in the head, at the end of the day, we know what can\u2019t be said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The years roll on, the troubles cost, Diplock courts and a place called the Kesh,<\/span><\/p>\n

Time now to talk, debate and discuss, but the violence goes on as it knows no rest,<\/span><\/p>\n

Soon the release, meet old friends; change is about but the peace is unheard,<\/span><\/p>\n

At funerals and wakes we meet again and we really know what can\u2019t be said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

A policeman\u2019s bullet, a friend is dead, be thankful you were not hit on the head.<\/span><\/p>\n

Another sentence, questions raised, but the wound has left you paralysed.<\/span><\/p>\n

We meet again and talk of now, we help our friends go by and by.<\/span><\/p>\n

The quiet of an evening, of friends that are dead, but we totally know what cannot be said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Your demons grow within your head, the bottle left you sick in bed,<\/span><\/p>\n

You seemed far, and ill at ease, the violent, the wounds that bleed.<\/span><\/p>\n

Haunted eyes that seen so much, the body hurt, the nerves that shred.<\/span><\/p>\n

Despite the friendship and total trust, there are still those things that can\u2019t be said.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The grave has you now, it\u2019s over and done, the last years of turmoil, the suffering long.<\/span><\/p>\n

Well liked and loved, a character of note, a blessing to end the torture of stroke.<\/span><\/p>\n

The world has changed, as indeed it must, and you my friend I do entrust,<\/span><\/p>\n

Now that you are released, no more the dread, and there will be things, that will never ever be said.<\/span><\/p>\n

Billy.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"Share\"\/<\/a>