Mai Venn

Silver Star - 3,843 Points [5252]

Mai Venn Poems

1. 1916 4/2/2015
2. 2015 4/3/2015
3. The Irish Lament 4/15/2015
4. The Scale Of Liberty 4/15/2015
5. Blackmail The Oppressed, Attachment Order, Why Don’t You? By Mai Venn 5/6/2015
6. School Days 5/11/2015
7. Thought Of A First Time Mother. 5/23/2015
8. The Arival Of The Terrorist 5/25/2015
9. We Are Back 8/31/2015
10. The Winds Of Change 9/13/2015
11. Rebirth 9/15/2015
12. At War 9/27/2015
13. Homeless In Dublin 9/29/2015
14. Help By Mai Venn 9/29/2015
15. Just Write 9/30/2015
16. Dreams For Ireland 9/30/2015
17. Boom, Boom, Boom 9/30/2015
18. The History Books 10/4/2015
19. The Budget 10/7/2015
20. Will You Go By Mai Venn 10/14/2015
21. I Am From? 10/18/2015
22. Thinking To Myself 10/20/2015
23. That Regime End 11/6/2015
24. Why Kill? 11/15/2015
25. Who Do They Think They Are Fooling 11/19/2015
26. Life Is A Gift 11/24/2015
27. Love Lost 11/24/2015
28. November 2015 11/29/2015
29. I Am Sick And Tired. 12/7/2015
30. The Music Stopped 12/7/2015
31. Unfinish Poem 1/13/2016
32. January 1/15/2016
33. Vote 1/18/2016
34. Go 1/29/2016
35. The Ladder Of Life By Mai Venn 2/9/2016
36. Quest 2/15/2016
37. Faults Prophets 2/17/2016
38. The Green, White And Gold 3/7/2016
39. Polly 3/9/2016
40. Ireland Is A Awaiting 3/15/2016
Best Poem of Mai Venn

Oppression Of Ireland

Oppression of Ireland


Why is our country so sad?
Why is our government so bad?
Why does our youth feel so down?
Why do our elderly have a forlorn frown
Why are we left to the four winds?
Why does our leader Kenny have a grin?

Why are the poor getting poorer?
Why are the rich getting richer?
Why are the children suffering?
Why are the homeless dying on our streets?
Why are our ill on hospital trolleys, day after day?
Why, why, why.

They say that Ireland is a lovely land
One could live there, it so green and grand
But why ...

Read the full of Oppression Of Ireland

Commemoration Of 1798

Two hundred year later, at the 98 Commemoration
We all gathered around to celebrate in anticipation,
We dressed up in our peasant rags, brogs, shawls and wigs,
With our musicians and dancers, our reels and our gigs.

Historians pondered, wondered, argued and debated,
While tourists watched on, drank Guinness and patiently waited
Rebel songs, they were sung and Church bells, they were rung,
All ages were represented, from the old to the young.

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