The McWard Family's Account

The McWard Family’s Account
By Alexis R. Osborne

“Ireland Forever”, the defeated man cried,
“Though I may feel beaten, I still have my pride.
I’ve toiled and salvaged what little I can,
From this failing and rotted bit of farmland.
Oh, Lord above please show me a sign
What should I do for this family of mine?”

The shriveling wife holds her head high
gazing towards the sky, tear ducts run dry.
Peering deep in his hollowed, crying eyes
as she evaluates his diminishing size.
“Woe is me to behold such a fate,
hell is seeing my family disintegrate.”

“Ireland Forever” the crinkled elder reminded,
when he felt his numbered days declining.
“As the nervous caterpillar sheds its sanctuary,
So must we reap our losses; begin new history.
Suffer the younger generations to remember,
our righteous stance and how we didn’t surrender.”

And the young adults, wide-eyed and ghostly,
wondered aloud on what they’d eat Monday.
“We’ve roasted our loyal dog and even the rats,
and workhouses are more vile and bitter than that.
It is time that we end our worsening plight,
and relinquish our land for a brave new life.”

And so the entire McWard family left,
sold their belongings, walked as they wept.
They’d tried to hold firm a foot on their plot,
but life had dealt lady Ireland a nasty lot.
To leave was to give up their heirloom stake,
but to remain would mean they’d wither away.

“Ireland Forever” the immigrant child said,
as he tipped his hat to the American land.
“pray may we find an honest man’s wage,
and meet our new destiny with courage.
Strength, perseverance, brotherhood that’s ours,
Ireland Forever, thriving in our hearts."