Hillsborough Poem by Daniel McDonagh

Tears of angels fell on Liverpool’s streets,
Waves of the Mersey woke from their sleep,
The Liver Bird’s head hung in grief,
Hillsborough’s terracing became a thief.

Nothing can soothe a mother’s broken heart
As her tears have stained a Liverpool scarf,
The Kop stood, in a cold quiet silence
As 96 souls never got a chance to say goodbye.

The Leppings Lane end was the killing field of football
As the Liverpool fans had traveled for a FA Cup semi-final,
Blind with ignorance was the Sheffield police force
As they crushed the fans into, what was like a garden fence.

Through the eyes of this Celtic supporter,
I was one of football’s mourners,
The passion had gone from the beautiful game
When wreathes of sadness bore Liverpool’s name.

Bill Shankly, one of Liverpool’s greats,
Waited for the 96 souls at heaven‘s gates,
As they watch the likes of Owen & Heskey,
Restore the pride and glory back to the Mersey.

The seas of injustice will rise in time
As Liverpool will always remember April’15th 1989,
The eternal candle will burn for those who were lost,
And will burn even brighter when justice is served.