Eric O’Neill on Robert Street

A mighty smith did forge nearby,
The work was hot and heavy, I say with a sigh.
Smiths toiled in the darkness of a smoke filled place,
The above bronze plaque leaves, its only trace.
Now its time to remember the trades of old,
Their work is all around us,it needs respect, and its story told.
The forged iron has aged, and is now tired,like a sentry it has served its station well.
Its intrinsic beauty remains, to those initiated to the art of the fire,it still casts its spell.
 
– Eric O Neill (An Artist Blacksmith)
 

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Paul O’Connell on O’Connell Street (Outside Augustinian Church)

I know what you’re thinking when you’re looking at me

I see it in your eyes and I don’t like what I see

But what your seeing is pain and misery

Sorrow & tears and trying to come through adversity

It’s been so long now I forgot the real me

Night after night I’m tossing in my sleep

His telling me in my dreams that he’s coming after me

These demons I’m fighting just won’t let me fucking be

This last year my world is upside down

Like the Jericho Walls when they hit the fucking ground

I don’t know who to trust I think I’m losing my mind

My life’s a dark room, I could swear that I’m blind

I’m nearly 25, not a spark in my life

All I’ve known so far is the struggle and the strife

Will I ever see the day when I’ve kids and a wife?

Thinking to myself YA that would be nice

So what the Fuck did I do with my life?

Now I’m looking back, man, some-things not right

Whatever I reached for was always out of sight

So please god just show me some light

My head wants to die but my heart wants to fight

Tell me Lord will this pain ever cease?

I know I’m fucked up but I don’t want to be deceased.

So guide me through this darkness, let me find inner peace.

 – Paul O’Connell

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