I would like to share this poem with everyone who has been involved or in some way affected by the troubles of Northern Ireland.
Strangers!
Its strange that we're separated
Its strange that we can't live as one
Its strange that when we meet, in between us is a gun If you try to kill me
I won't blame you for having a try
But I will blame you if you start to cry You're killing me for something
that you probably don't understand
but you will get the blame
because the gun is in your hand. If you pull the trigger
And if the bullet shoots
just remember you did this,
and the blood is on your boots. This poem is not aimed to offend anyone. I wrote it to point out the effects that the 'troubles' in Northern Ireland are having on people, and this is my mind speaking out. YOUR RESPONSES Liam - May '07
I'm from Belfast, Falls road. Born and raised and still living here. Northern Ireland will never be at peace. Ancient debt, settling scores... common phrase here "we just love to kill and we always will". Things go quiet, then trouble stirs again. It's a way of life. Though the cause has been betrayed. Darren, USA
I would like to share these thoughts…….Thank you The Lost Childhood I'm a thirty something and I was once a Belfast lad. I have heard a gunshot and saw a dying child soldier when just a child myself. I saw old men spread eagled against walls with dignity laid bare. I sought shelter behind parked cars in the dead of night as a car slowly drove down a red terraced Belfast Street. I glanced behind me tensely as fear bared its teeth. I lament a childhood lost and the friends from the other side I never got to meet. I live abroad now an object of curiosity with tales that mildly interest. My children grow up in normality without fear, while I lament a childhood lost. You stole my childhood Belfast and I pray to God that peace has come. | 
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