Centenary Celebration Kiss (WIP)

One hour flight,
to mark one hundred years ago.
I’m thinking of Love By Numbers
And how is it – how many – that had to die –
for me to have been when we first
threw eyes?

Is it the fifteen men who died
by fire at the jail to hill?
Is it the ‘thirteen strike
which killed more still, just
three years prior –
or does it go back,
yes it always go back.

To the days of Plight,
to the days of ol’
where more children died,
where more women toiled.

Is it the forty young-ones
who died by elders’ oversight
during that Easter time?

Have I Connolly to thank,
Have I Parnell to love?
Have I the famine to hug.

How many deaths did it take me
to get to you this Easter time?
Ireland was fighting to be recognised,
while I only had to find your eyes.

To the days of Plight,
to the days of ol’
where more children died,
where more women toiled.

Who would have thought that one hundred
years later, the fate of an island
would have brought us together?

When Ireland was fighting for his
freedom,
I was only wanting to join with you.

How many were born for me to get this
way with you? How many saw their lives fulfilled
with outweighed joy, how many sat upon free Irish
soil?

Centenary, celebrate,
not with guns,
but with a drenched guinness kiss.

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