Francis Duggan Dreams Poems

Someone should have told him he should not murder others and then kill himself for fame
Since all he left of himself is his legacy of shame
A gun in the wrong hands can cause sorrow and tears
And the kin of his victims left to grieve for years.
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In my dreams the past keeps coming back to me
The old Town by the hill again I see
And the roads I travel winding up and down
That takes me to the streets of Millstreet Town.
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He always hold high hopes for each tomorrow but each tomorrow for him seems the same
And his road to wealth and glory is all uphill yet he's convinced he'll reach the gate to fame
His dream is that he will be very wealthy and he lives in hope of better things it seems
And those who know him have a nickname for him he's known to them only as 'Broken Dreams'.
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I've left my Homeland Ireland but Ireland followed me
And every night I'm back there in Land beyond the sea
In dreams I'm back there every night I walk Jack Johnny's field
And climb up by the forest where grass to bracken yield.
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I thought I might know local fame some literary renown
In old Duhallow far away and Millstreet my hometown
But my verses were not good enough even for local fame
And now I'm resigned to the fact that few know me by name.
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That everyone has their dreams most would agree
But you only can live to be the best you can be
To live true to your higher self and with others be willing to share
If you cannot love yourself others you cannot love or about care
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Though for some their own ambition in life never come true
Everybody does have their own dreams to pursue
In life for one to win big many do have to lose
Though losing is a thing anyone does not choose
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Most people have their dreams in life to pursue
And life is what you make of it to some is only true
Due to hardship in childhood and due to birth circumstance
Some of any success in life stand little chance
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In my dreams i do hear it the old mountain rill
Babbling to the river down the field by the hill
When the hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
And the wildflowers do bloom in the fields far away
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Sometimes my dreams take me far inland from Hibernia's Shore
To old Clara Hill above high Claramore
Where the skylark a musical speck in the sky
Is caroling as up to the gray clouds he does fly
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In dreams i stand on Clara's Hill in view of the Paps of Shrone
And ancient Caherbarnagh and Gortavehy's face of stone
Above me the lark is singing as upwards he does fly
One of Nature's airborne minstrels born to carol in the sky
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Your dreams of better things for you and your family for you not coming true
Though you feel your turn of luck in life is overdue
Suppose to be wealthy and famous is not your life's destiny
As you do hear some say whatever will be will be
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Everyone do have their dreams in life to pursue
But sadly for many their dreams do not come true
We all cannot be winners as some like to say
For everyone their dreams do not come true life works in this way
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We all have our dreams in life for to pursue
But for most people their dreams do never come true
Life's journey ahead of you not for you to see
And you only can live to be the best you can be
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In your climb to your dreams of wealth and renown
As long as you never do drag others down
Or exploit Nature for self gain in any big way
Then may you achieve your ambitions is all I can say.
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In my dreams the past it does come back to me
The fields of Duhallow again i do see
And the streams to the rivers to the ocean shore
And the hills of Sliabh Luachra overlooking Rathmore
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Known to many as the would be home of broken dreams the ruins on the verge of the town
The timbers propping it up are decaying about to crumble and fall down
The woman who owned it she ran out of money and the builders from it walked away
And others builders they did not want to know her when they knew them that she could not pay.
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