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RIP the 96

A schoolboy holds a leather ball
in a photograph on a bedroom wall
the bed is made, the curtains drawn
as silence greets the break of dawn.

The dusk gives way to morning light
revealing shades of red and white
which hang from posters locked in time
of the Liverpool team of 89.

Upon a pale white quilted sheet
a football kit is folded neat
with a yellow scarf, trimmed with red
and some football boots beside the bed.

In hope, the room awakes each day
to see the boy who used to play
but once again it wakes alone
for this young boy’s not coming home.

Outside, the springtime fills the air
the smell of life is everywhere
viola’s bloom and tulips grow
while daffodils dance heel to toe.

These should have been such special times
for a boy who’d now be in his prime
but spring forever turned to grey
in the Yorkshire sun, one April day.

The clock was locked on 3.06
as sun shone down upon the pitch
lighting up faces etched in pain
as death descended on Leppings Lane.

Between the bars an arm is raised
amidst a human tidal wave
a young hand yearning to be saved
grows weak inside this deathly cage.

A boy not barely in his teens
is lost amongst the dying screams
a body too frail to fight for breath
is drowned below a sea of death

Ever since that disastrous day
a vision often comes my way
I reach and grab his outstretched arm
then pull him up away from harm.

We both embrace with tear-filled eyes
I then awake to realise
it’s the same old dream I have each week
as I quietly cry myself to sleep.

On April the 15th every year
when all is calm and skies are clear
beneath a glowing Yorkshire moon
a lone scots piper plays a tune.

The tune rings out the justice cause
then blows due west across the moors
it passes by the eternal flame
then engulfs a young boys picture frame.

And as it plays its haunting sound
tears are heard from miles around
they’re tears from families of those who fell
awaiting the toll of the justice bell.

RIP the 96

posted on 15/4/19

Be brilliant to win the title for those people ....
30 years on ....

posted on 15/4/19

A sombre scene,
A shrine, 92 colours.
A moving show of grief
From 91 others.

The Kop is empty now,
It's only a game.
The Kop is empty now,
It will never be the same.

Red Army, Christian crusade,
Led by a religion.
Walk on loyal lost,
You'll never walk alone.

posted on 15/4/19

what's the Christian crusade line about?

posted on 15/4/19

R.I.P the 96

posted on 15/4/19

Friend penned it Red, when all the tributes were left at the Kop. He's since passed but I remember him saying it was about the fans travelling through Europe following Liverpool. Makes sense when used in that context.

posted on 15/4/19

posted on 15/4/19

comment by Custardeyes (U4500)
posted 3 hours, 53 minutes ago
Friend penned it Red, when all the tributes were left at the Kop. He's since passed but I remember him saying it was about the fans travelling through Europe following Liverpool. Makes sense when used in that context.
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good effort from your dear friend, not a poet by choice I gather.

doesn't strike the right connotation to be honest re crusade..

posted on 16/4/19

RIP THE 96

Gone but never forgotten

posted on 16/4/19

comment by Custardeyes (U4500)
posted 3 hours, 53 minutes ago
Friend penned it Red, when all the tributes were left at the Kop. He's since passed but I remember him saying it was about the fans travelling through Europe following Liverpool. Makes sense when used in that context.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
good effort from your dear friend, not a poet by choice I gather.

doesn't strike the right connotation to be honest re crusade..

Poet no, but he was a good soul. Seeing the events unfold left a mark on him.

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