Description

By Doctor Rosaleen O’Brien

ISBN: 978-1-84991-531-1
Published: 2011
Pages: 149
Key Themes: poetry, army, tribute, family

About the Author

I have been in receipt of trauma counselling since 1999 on a daily basis,at times speaking till the early hours of the morning.Support from my trauma Counsellor helps me to come to terms with accepting that what has happened to me cannot now be changed. I cannot ever forgive those who had a vicarious liability to look after me and failed. As a result of being locked away for some years all because we were poor has brought certain limitations to my day to day life. Writing is a form of therapy and allows me to be free to be the person that I want to be, and should have been my birthright. Through writing I can reach out to others who may have had such an unfortunate experience as myself . Daily flashbacks can be upsetting and I fill my life with things to do so as to block them out. Day to day life can be exhausting and coping mechanisms that I learnt in order to survive have not helped me in the outside world. God help all fellow survivors and perhaps one day Ireland will accept the terrible price we paid. Shame on all you right thinking residents in Ireland to allow the government and Catholic Church to ignore harm done to me and many others who are either dead or too ill to tell their story. Thanks to Chipmunkapublishing I have been able to confront my demons and a Big Thank you to Reatha my trauma counsellor without her I would not be here today writing about my stolen life.

Book Extract

This tribute to you a great man who has done so much
To give all Irish folk a sense of freedom
Is something we must never again take for granted
No matter whatever the reason
Around the time of your birth
Ireland was not this lovely green soil
There was sheer desolation
And the country was in turmoil
Within a few years of your birth
There was a struggle going on
Soon you yourself would know your worth
Men of your time would bring earn your country pride
So many lived, fought, and in the end
For freedom they died
On Easter Monday 1916 fifteen hundred in all
Felt a strange sensation of nationhood were called
These men and women they now had had enough
The `talking days were over`
Off they marched to seize Dublin City
Now things they would get rough
Trooper Patrick Rogers you were but a boy
So young you were but history would do you proud
When you knelt down to pray at night
I guess you prayed out loud
You grew up bringing family national pride
You lived on so that your stories I could write
Writing this tribute is an emotional journey for me
And I salute those who have died
In your childhood days some lost the will to live
How could Irish people feel proud
When they had nothing left to give?
All that you were born into Trooper was a past that was dead With desolation and hunger
And men with a price upon their head