poem by: Darryl Ashton
Written on Apr 22, 2017

I lost my boy, my baby, my son,
I thought he’d come home and say “we’ve won”,
The silence echoed, he never came,
Life will never be the same.

To see his face, just one more time,
To hug my baby and call him mine,
I won’t give up, I will always fight,
Until everything is put right.

My smile hidden with all the sorrow,
Worried about today and tomorrow,
The death of all you at ninety-six,
Each single person dearly missed.

The torture, the pain that you must have seen.
Just going to see your football team,
How on earth can this be?
You should be sitting at home with me?

The flame is burning, it never stops,
The flowers, the flags, the football tops,
The ninety-six who lost their lives,
Scarred the others who survived.

The sea of bodies, the sight of death,
Each person gasping for their breath,
The young and old, all the same,
There’s only one person that we can blame.

My darling, my precious, don’t you fret,
I’m not giving up, not just yet,
I will make sure that justice is done,
My baby, my precious, my number one!



Tags: sad,

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Frank byrne commented:
Heartfelt words Darryl......beautiful an Evertonian, I was at Villa park that fateful day back in '89.........when the news filtered broke our didn't matter anymore...........I feel your grief....


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