For those left behind & Black dog

For those left behind

 

Behind our eyes

beneath our faces

beyond skin colour

creeds and races,

our worlds crossed

similar paths,

by dead man’s lane

the killers’ wrath

were all the same.

 

An empty chair

an old hat,

with locks of hair.

A favourite skirt,

muddy boots,

still caked with dirt.

 

We can never

replace those,

who did not plan

to leave so soon.

All that remains

are the ghosts

of those we grieve.

 

Seán Maguire

 


Black dog

 

The black dog

never leaves

my side,

gnawing heavily

at my wounded pride.

 

When I try leaving

it behind,

it is hot

on my trail

wagging its tail.

 

If I go for a walk,

I cannot think

I dare not talk.

 

The black dog,

is a serial beast

feasting on my

darker side,

pulling me below

the swirling tide.

 

I will not weep

when, I put

the black dog

to sleep.

 

Seán Maguire

 

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