I meant to ring but never did
He normally did but never did
The unspoken though that silent hid
Told the truth, successful bid
How can that be success at all,
Action unknown bar for unmade call
No mass, as desired, to bless the pall
No more occasional coffee in the mall
No more talks of the world and it’s woes
Unspoken troubles only the sufferer knows
Treatment for pneumonia occasionally goes
Of the mind, it occasionally shows…
Pleasure to in this life to have known
As with all friends in time apart had grown
Hope he’s at peace now his soul has flown
Too tired of life: made peace his own.
A friend of mine, whose quote “This Could be 1939 Again” I used as title for another poem after the protests subsequent to the Clondalkin tragedy, sadly took his own life on Dec 23rd.
This verse is for him, though the rhyme is simple and forced in places, that reflects the acceptance I must force on myself that life goes the way it does, though it does cross the mind ‘What if I’d rang as he hadn’t? ‘
My thoughts are with his wife and child, his former partners family and friends. RIP Lubo… One of life’s gentlemen.