The Ballymun Flats
They stand as statues waiting for the command which is looming,
Lined up against the sky, towering above the fair city like a garrison.
Down they glare, making shadows as they inspect Dublin booming
While the people living under their roof are condensed in concrete
Far from the affluent who were hell-bent on keep the status quo.
What do they know of making-do or hand-me-downs
For in their world it’s not who you are but who you know,
A world where life is grand, with money to spend on designer gowns.
The tower are made from cement, sand and glass.
Families came and lived there, ordinary, decent, working class.
Children came home from school and went out to play.
We all thought that the Ballymun flats were here to stay.
The Celtic tiger came and ran wild into Dail Eireann and out again.
Round Ireland it did roam and then disappeared out of the land,
Over the waves, far away, around the EEC and then
It came back only now, it was bet as we watched it expire on Dollymount strand.
mai venn
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-ballymun-flats/
