‘Wake Up!’ © Joe Canning 2016. All Rights Reserved.

‘Wake Up!’
© Joe Canning 2016. All Rights Reserved.

With tiny shoes on tiny feet at five years old
I left our street, escorted by the hand of older sister.
Taken by her guardian hand she walked to school
‘this little man’,
entrusted to the servants of the system.
An innocent of a ‘Free State’, my young mind theirs
to desecrate,
To learn the lies for years they forced on others.

For years I sat within their rooms, they taught us
to conform to rules,
and taught us too, to fear exalted clergy.
To never touch the Holy Host or little fingers
would drop off and we would burn on Satan’s
flaming fires.
On Saturdays to listening priests we told them of our
sins, misdeeds, so they could monitor the lowly classes.

They taught from ‘victors’ history books so none could learn
the chilling truths,
taught little of starvation, slaughters, tortures. They lied! they lied!
and lied and lied, a nation’s history they revised to spare the
blushes of imperial masters.
Oh wake up! think out loud good folk, this can’t continue, it’s no
joke, no more must we be pawns in this connivance.
No more dangling from their hooks whilst bankers fill their vaults
with loot, ’tis time to tick the box that wins our freedom.

You’ve all heard stories of rich men, the Rolex watch, Mercedes-Benz,
that live in mansions, feast with tainted leaders.
And when their bungling hits the wall, they have no fear, no fear at all,
for poor folk will be made to fill their coffers.
They stand by lecterns, spout their lies, they flaunt and use their kids, their wives, and still we put the wrong X on the paper

My father, a hard-working man, would each year get some
Christmas cards and placed them high with pride upon the mantel.
Fancy cards from tailored men to thank him for his vote, again,
Not knowing they were gombeens, crooks and gangsters.
And when he died there were no cards, no fancy cars in our front yard,
no thanks from those his lifetime he supported
and still today they tax and spend and folk like dad will pay again,
be robbed to compensate for bankers failings.

So I will say no more my friends, except to beg you, please beware,
of those that work to power the present system.
That take your child when it is five and twist and screw it’s fragile mind,
to toe the line and do dictator’s biddings.
Look well at what they’re taught at school, insist that they read
truthful books,
for truth is what they need and not, processing.

(The author is well aware there are thousands of good teachers out there that want to teach properly but are afraid to do so and so casts no aspersions on them)

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Stair na hÉireann is steeped in Ireland's turbulent history, culture, ancient secrets and thousands of places that link us to our past and the present. With insight to folklore, literature, art, and music, you’ll experience an irresistible tour through the remarkable Emerald Isle.