(Nightmare: The Famine)
Because my father loves me,
He sent me to this man
“To make a painting of thee.”
I must do what I can.
Because my mother has left,
Returned to God above
Our family, though bereft,
Works, a labor of love.
Because our large family
Struggles just to survive
No choice had I but agree
Yet a vision had I:
Because our home, Ireland
To its people is harsh
I hear the beats of a band
Playing a sad death march.
Because the future I see
-Some rough times to be had,
In which lost is family-
My eyes, my face are sad.
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