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Hope for Naught

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My people
My beloved people
A rotten potato crop
A new land

Crossed the Atlantic
Into a new life
‘Work the soil and forever toil’
Was what we were taught

The problem:
No money, no sustenance
Seaboard cities were the way to go
Women as kitchen maids
Men in canal and railroad construction

Catholic religion
Looked down upon
Spit on, disrespected, loathed
‘Twas not easy for my people

A sign on the factory gates
‘No Irish Need Apply’
dampened our hopes,
our aspirations,
our trust

‘Look to the west…’
we were told
‘Towards the setting sun…’
this was our dream
‘Therein lies the land of freedom and opportunity’
But we were mistaken.
So very mistaken.





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